


Let Me Live in Your City

by unheardmelodies



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Galas, Harry is a lovely hipster, Liam is the best around, London, Louis should be Prime Minister, Minor Character Death, Misunderstandings, Niall is a bit of an idiot, Our Heroine has a fairy godmother who is slightly unhinged, People in love being stupid but they have their reasons, Pigeons are gross, Slow Burn, ancient cats that have fought death several times and won, but so sweet, non famous AU, title based on the best Paul Simon song ever written
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-12
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-04-20 11:23:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 88,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4785566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unheardmelodies/pseuds/unheardmelodies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some people never say those words<br/>I love you<br/>It’s not their style to be so bold<br/>Some people never say those words<br/>I love you<br/>But like a child, they’re longing to be told<br/>-Paul Simon</p>
<p>A mantra of kiss me kiss me kiss me thrummed in her brain. The air surrounding them was growing thicker by the second. Chloe felt hot and breathless like there was someone clenching her lungs in their fists. She had to get out before she did something horrifically stupid like kiss Niall on his dumb mouth.</p>
<p>Or:<br/>Chloe Mack just recently moved to London from Chicago. She's friendless and homesick when she meets Niall Horan, a broke musician who's as charming as it gets and doesn't do relationships. Chloe quickly falls for him, but keeps her mouth shut rather than risk their friendship.</p>
<p>It all goes wrong a couple of times.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you Enjoy.  
> Thanks to my beautiful Beta, Cassie and to everyone who encouraged me to post this here in the first place. Check us out on [tumblr](http://adultfansofonedirection.tumblr.com) .

Staring up at the pigeons that rested on the telephone lines running the length of the alley, Chloe wondered if anyone had ever been more pathetic than she was right now. Probably not. Because it had only taken one week for London to turn Chloe into a sniveling, pathetic, homesick mess. One week for the delusion she’d been floating in, the delusion that she possessed worldly sophistication and a grown up sense of independence, to come crumbling down around her. Hiding in the alley behind her brand new job, she briefly wondered if they would let her take up residence there like some kind of alley troll with only the pigeons for company. She would stand as a warning to all future employees: don’t fuck this up, or you too could end up like Old Crone Chloe, muttering to her winged friends.

Through her tears, a bubble of hysterical laughter rippled through her chest and past her lips, half choked sob, half giggle. Even in the lowest of times, Chloe could appreciate her ridiculous flair for the dramatic.

 

The most disappointing thing was that she had been doing well. Granted, it had only been a week, but she’d already established a routine, befriended her roommate, and even flirted with the handsome barista who worked at the Costa right outside her tube station. She’d been sleeping fairly well and had only called her dad once as opposed to her usual every other day.  Resting against the bricks next to the emergency exit door, Chloe tried rationalizing the humiliating tears running down her face. This is merely the balance of the universe. No one has a perfect week. We must take the good with the bad. Blah, blah, blah.

 

Clutching onto her phone, she itched to call her dad, an old and familiar pattern she’d established shortly after leaving home for college, something she’d hoped to grow out of in her early twenties. But here she was, a grown woman at her first professional job, and all she could think about was having a good cry on the phone to her father. It’s not that she couldn’t, but she’d promised herself no more frantic calls back home. She needed to talk to someone, though. The realization that she had no one to call, no one in London to turn to while she was sitting on the hard concrete in a smelly alley triggered her final free fall into panic.

 

Through her heaving, shaky breaths, Chloe inhaled the rotten sweetness of trash forcing herself not to gag. Her phone heavy in her sweaty palm, she looked back up, spying a row of pigeons looking down at her, their heads jerking side to side, beady red eyes judging her every move. It’s like they were glancing back and forth from her phone to her tear streaked, tomato red face knowing her list of London contacts was small, almost all of whom sat comfortably in the in the office above her head. Maybe she should just call her boss.

 

She could imagine the conversation now, _“Hey Sarah, yeah it’s me, Chloe. I’m experiencing a breakdown in the alley and am having a silent conversation with some condescending pigeons. Yeah, want to come back here and fire me so I can just go back home? Greaaaaaaat, Thanks!”_  Despite her current predicament, she allowed herself another cackle of laughter, but it only seemed to disturb the birds as they cooed down at her.

 

Heaving a great sigh, she decided to call the only person she knew in London outside of work and with trembling hands, unlocked her phone and clicked on Rosie.

 

“Please pick up, please please please oh god, oh sweet baby Jesus if you have any love for me at all please…,” she was muttering to herself as the phone rang through to her roommate - no flatmate, _flatmate_ \- Rosie to pick up her phone. _Flatmate, flat flat flat not apartment_ Chloe hissed at herself. In the very limited time they’d spent together her flatmate Rosie had been constantly amused at her seemingly never ending barrage of cultural blunders. Rosie once laughed for two minutes straight after Chloe had dropped “pop” ( _how is that worse than fizzy drink, honestly?_ ) into their conversation. After those difficult two minutes, Chloe resolved to stop sounding like the American bumpkin she was and more like the posh Londoner she knew resided deep within herself. Maybe.

 

“CLO, how are you, love?“ Rosie’s voice finally came through, bright and warm but distant and echoey. She had also taken to calling Chloe “Clo” after she misheard her name when they met.

 

“You sound far away,” Chloe responded.

 

“Oh yeah, sorry, I’m shaving my legs. You’re on speaker. Liam’s finally home, so I thought it was time to tame the hairy beasts. How’s everything?” Liam was Rosie’s boyfriend who had some sort of vague but fancy sounding job in marketing for which he traveled a lot. Chloe had yet to meet him, but Rosie always made him sound lovely.  

 

“Umm, well. Not, erm, great,” Chloe quickly dissolved back into tears. That sort of full blown ugly sobbing she’d always been prone to.  A girl of extremes, her mom once said, either laughing or sobbing, happy or miserable. Chloe never believed in halfassing things.  

 

"Love, what’s wrong?” Rosie’s voice sounded soft, concerned, and more than a little confused. Chloe couldn’t blame her, they hadn’t really achieved the closeness where it was appropriate to call her at 3pm on a Friday, sobbing loudly enough to disturb her pigeon judges who had begun picking at trash around the dumpster. _God, they’re rats. Rat birds._ And she hated them.

 

“Wait, what..rat birds?” Rosie said, sounding more than casually concerned now. Chloe realized she had blurted the latter end of her inner monologue into her phone.  

 

“That’s right,“ she charged on, "The stupid rat birds are judging me, and my boss has finally seen what a fuck up I am. I’m a failure, and I just want to go home and make a blanket cave and not emerge until I turn into a gollum-like creature, pitied and reviled by the masses!” Chloe heard shuffling on the other end of the line, and wondered if Rosie had just looked up the name of a reliable locksmith after realizing her new flatmate was at best emotionally unstable, at worst, a murderer.

 

“Bad day at work, love?” Rosie asked. She was being compassionate, not a hint of judgement or annoyance in her voice. Chloe resolved to buy her some flowers or a car or anything extravagant for being so wonderful. It calmed her enough to take a deep breath and continue talking like an adult.

 

“Yeah…yeah. Yes, sorry for the rant,” Chloe hiccuped pathetically “I just really, I don’t know how I got here? I think I’ve made a huge mistake accepting this job.”

 

"Really? I thought you were doing so well,” Rosie said.

 

“Yeah. I think, I mean, I don’t know what I was expecting. I’m just so fucking…,” Chloe trailed off, her voice hitching on her next thought, hesitating to say it out loud because she was going to be deducted some serious Big Girl points if she did.

 

Several beats later, Rosie spoke for her, “Homesick.”

 

It wasn’t a question. Chloe felt a fresh wave of tears fall down the sides of her face and into her hair.

_Yes_ , a voice inside her answered. _I’m terribly, miserably, pathetically homesick, and it’s only been a week and I feel like everyone can see through my thin armor. They’ll be taking away my big girl pants and drinking privileges any minute now._

 

“Ok, babe, here’s what you’re gonna do,” Rosie’s calm voice came back through the phone. It sounded closer, like she had taken her off speakerphone. “You’re going to wash off that pretty face of yours, square your shoulders, and finish this day with dignity and aplomb. Then you’re going to come home, get dolled up like the sex bomb you are, and we’re going to go out. Like proper out where we get pissed and say the next day ‘I’m never drinking again’. I’ll invite some friends of mine and you’ll forget all about being homesick.” Chloe sat in stunned silence. She felt so fucking grateful that she just might start crying again. Well, she hadn’t really stopped.  

 

“Um,” she started softly, not really sure how to say thank you without blubbering like an infant.

 

“You think you’re going to be okay?” Rosie asked, totally collected and surprisingly not at all phased that her flatmate is a freak who hates birds and needs mid afternoon pep talks.

 

“You know, I really do,” she replied. Complete sincerity wrapped around the words and Chloe hoped somehow Rosie would know it was a thank you.

 

“Wonderful! Now go kick ass, take names, and pick us up some toilet paper on the way home. We’re almost out.”

 

“Done, done and will do,” Chloe answered, smiling and thanking God that of all the flats in London she’d applied to, Rosie was the one who’d accepted her application.

 

“K Clo, see you later!” She piped and then hung up.

 

Chloe walked back into work ten minutes later, face freshly washed and head held high reassuring herself that the day could only get better. She proceeded to spill coffee all over her desk mate, Harry, and his silky floral shirt.

_________

 

 

Settling in for her half hour long tube ride, Chloe finally had a minute to sort her head out. It had been one of the toughest weeks of her life. Three weeks prior she had landed her dream job co-running the fundraising and special events division of UNICEF, London. She had been offered the job right out of her internship with the organization in Chicago, much to her surprise and delight.

 

The fact that it was in London was the only drawback. Strange really, because everyone she told before leaving had fallen all over themselves to express their envy. Her father in particular had taken to every form of social media, shouting from the digital rooftops how proud and excited he was for her. Over two weeks, as seemingly every person from her hometown called and texted her wishing her congratulations, she stamped down the impulse to bury her head in the sand like an ostrich, ashamed that at her core she didn’t want to go. She had felt pathetically hollow every time she faked enthusiasm on the phone as she carefully packed up her Chicago studio,  jealous as to how they all sounded so genuinely awed over the idea of living in London.

 

To be fair everything was exotic when your hometown is located in nowhere Illinois, surrounded by corn and soy fields stretching into the horizon no matter what direction you’re facing. A town where the only thing that mattered was high school football and whose citizens only dressed up for church, funerals, and the yearly state faire that made everything smell like cow manure and fried dough. Chloe had managed to escape to Chicago for college, which ended up being nothing like the sweet city dream-scape she’d built it up to be, and after four years she threw herself into her UNICEF internship with obsessive gusto which her bosses mistook for tireless dedication.

 

The truth was, after the initial glitz of the big city wore off, after she found the hollow ache that had become a part of her after everything that had happened back home wasn’t filled by new friends and big city anonymity Chloe longed for the place she’d spent two years working tirelessly to escape. When Chloe graduated, her initial plans were to pack up the apartment, drive home and plant her ass on her father’s couch for the rest of her life. There was nothing to do there, but at least it made sense. At least there she’d always belonged even if everyone looked at her like at any moment she might shatter. If it wasn’t for the job offer of a lifetime, she’d be watching _Jeopardy!_ with her father instead of clutching a massive amount of toilet paper to her chest on The Tube.

 

Chloe felt a fresh wave of stifling homesickness wash over her again as she recounted the humiliating events of that afternoon. It all boiled down to Mrs. Hillburn who walked into the office that afternoon clutching her dated tan handbag to her stomach managing to reduce Chloe into a panicked child in an impressive five minutes. Previous to that afternoon her boss, Sarah, had taken an immediate shine her. Chloe found Sarah’s no-nonsense, direct approach to management a godsend.  She couldn’t stand wishy-washy management, thriving herself off of structure, organization and efficiency. She’d spent four years dealing with Tim, her passive aggressive shift manager at Peet’s Coffee back in Chicago. If she were to start a list of all the things that made London better than Chicago, Tim, her pudding faced manager, would be numbers one through five.

 

So overall she was thriving. Chloe had initially worried about her desk mate, Harry, when he walked in her first day wearing black skinny jeans she wasn’t unconvinced were painted on, a button up shirt with tropical flowers and a headscarf that made him look like a Vermeer painting. By Wednesday, though,  she was half in love with him. When she’d spilled her boiling hot coffee on him earlier he’d apologized profusely to her. He was about the kindest, gentlest soul Chloe had ever met which was a relief as they were both new to the office and London while co-running their department. Chloe was seriously considering making them matching friendship bracelets.

 

So when Mrs. Hillburn had marched into the office that afternoon when everyone was out to lunch (Chloe having stayed to finish up some emails) the illusion that she was going to survive in London was shattered. Holly Hillburn walked in looking like a startled woodland creature, her fur coat reeking of mothballs, tangled salt and pepper hair sticking out every which way, her handbag clutched tightly in both hands along with a crinkly envelope. Her amber eyes were wild and untrusting, and she walked with purpose straight into the heart of the office without a second glance to Chloe who immediately tried to, very politely, stop her from going any further with God knows what in the envelope.  

 

“I’m placing this on Sarah’s desk,” Holly had stated, her  eyes darting around like someone was going to pounce out at any second and force her to do something terrible like brush her hair. She sounded more commanding than she looked, her accent incredibly posh, almost like something you’d hear in a black and white movie.

 

“If you’d like to hand the envelope to me, I can make sure Sarah gets it when she’s back from lunch,” Chloe replied, talking to whom she suspected to be the real life Ms. Havisham.

 

"NO. I can do it. I always do it. She lets me do it,” Mrs. Hillburn had hissed back, like a cat with its hackles raised.

 

“It’s really no problem, ma'am,” Chloe had replied, trying her best to remain professional.

 

“Who are you? You don’t even WORK here,” she questioned immediately, tone haughty and nose turning ever so slightly into the air.

 

“I’m Chloe. I’m new here. Nice to meet you?” Chloe didn’t mean it to sound like a question.

 

“Where’s Sarah? I demand to speak with her. She’s your manager if you even work here.”

 

“Oh, I definitely work here.”

 

“I wasn’t informed of that.”

 

“Why would you need to be informed of that?” Chloe winced at how disrespectful it sounded but her patience was running out.

 

“How dare you I’m…I’m HOLLY. HILLBURN,” she’d shouted like it was supposed to mean something to Chloe.

 

“I’m so sorry, I just… You see, I’m new….” trying desperately to back pedal Chloe hoped it would be accepted as excuse enough.

 

“HOW DARE YOU? I’M HOLLY HILLBURN,” She’d shouted again, mouth opening and closing in shock like a fish out of water. Chloe was stunned and could do nothing but watch this woman have a meltdown in her empty office. It was in the middle of the third hysterical screaming of “I’m Holly Hillburn!” that Sarah and Harry had come rushing back into the office. Holly had immediately rushed into Harry’s arms crying softly “I’m Holly Hillburn. I’m Holly Hillburn”.

 

“Well of course you are,” Harry had soothed her gently and guided her back to the break room. Honestly if Harry Styles wasn’t so sweet, Chloe would hate him with an undying passion. His perfection is annoying and unsettling.

 

As it turned out, Holly Hillburn was one of the largest donors to UNICEF’s London branch: an eccentric, rich, old widow who insisted on bringing all her contributions herself in cash. She was terribly suspicious of the post and don’t get her started on _banks_. After a lengthy lecture from Sarah about professionalism in the workplace and the sensitivity with which they must treat the donors, Chloe was convinced she was going to be fired. 

 

When she was younger, she used to burrow herself in her parents walk-in closet that smelled of stale detergent, Christmas decorations, and dust to take long hidden naps feeling safe and protected. The whole time in her meeting with Sarah, it was all she could think about.  London was wide, foreign and felt cold, even in the summer. The only thing that had been keeping her together was how easily she had fit in at work, how well she’d been doing. Now, having fucked up big time, everything else came crashing down at once, violently, like water through a broken dam.

 

When Harry returned after having safely deposited Holly Hillburn into a cab, he silently placed a Milka chocolate bar on her desk. The small kindness was her breaking point,. Minutes later she was calling Rosie and having the breakdown of the century in front of her least favorite pigeons.

_______

 

Chloe hated the **“out of order”** sign on her building’s elevator, it taunted her everyday, a reminder of the four flights of stairs she had to climb to reach her flat. Having been so frantic to find a halfway decent place she had jumped on the first one with a functional closet. She knew in the back of her head that the exercise was good for her but the amount of toilet paper she was hauling up the stairs was ridiculous and, huffing dramatically at the package, she hoped both the stairs and the toilet paper could feel her disdain.

 

“Home!” she called to Roise, a little too loudly in an attempt to sound cheerful once she locked the door. Glancing down the  narrow hallway that led to the living room, and beyond that the bedrooms she’d resolved to sound as relaxed and happy as should could, hoping Rosie would forget about the whole emotional breakdown thing, and they’d never have to talk about it again. When she’d first moved in, she’d immediately wanted to befriend Rosie, now though, she’d settle for her not thinking she’s insane.

 

“I bought toilet paper!” She called as she flung the bulky package into the bathroom, pointed at it when it fell off the toilet and commanded _“now think about what you’ve done”_ and turned to stare at her reflection in the mirror. A puffy-eyed, splotchy-faced girl stared back at her. Thank God she had plenty of time before they went out. This was why the good people at _Smashbox_ invented heavy duty concealer.

 

She still hadn’t gotten a response from Rosie. Maybe she had moved out in the interim between their phone call and now. Maybe Rosie sounded calm on the phone so that Chloe wouldn’t suspect she’d be spending the afternoon moving all her things out. Ignoring the insane ramblings of her brain, Chloe continued shouting across the flat.

 

“Why do they insist on selling toilet paper in bulk like this? When I was riding the tube I felt the judgement, really I did. All those people were probably thinking, _‘Jesus, does that girl live on the toilet?’_ I mean honestly, it’s an obscene amount of toilet paper. They probably didn’t even use this much during that party scene in _Sixteen Candles_ to teepee Jake Ryan’s house. Like, even John Hughes would say, _‘Easy tiger, I think we’ve got all we need_ ’ .” Chloe was babbling now, she’ often suffered from this type of “verbal diarrhea” when she felt unsure and awkward. “I could probably papier mache our whole fucking apartment if I really wanted to, I mean, if we had enough glue. Do we have glue?”

 

"I made an old lady cry today,” she continued. It was like her brain had gotten on a runaway train, and her mouth was trying to keep up. She turned out of the bathroom, slamming the lights off and started down the hall.  "To be fair I think she was a little off her rocker to begin with, but I think if the UNICEF thing doesn’t pan out I could have a career in a very specific type of-“ Chloe stopped short when she turned the corner to face the living room. There were two very handsome, very bemused looking boys on Rosie’s couch that she had never seen before. One whose smile was so wide his eyes disappeared into little slits, the other quickly descending into a fit of silent laughter that had turned his face a very vibrant shade of pink.

 

Chloe should have said _"Hello”_ instead she said, “Well, fuck _me_.” Which prompted the shaking blonde boy to slide off the couch unable to hold back his trilling of laughter. This embarrassed her so thoroughly that her face’s color began to match his.

 

The smiley one had a different approach. Clearing his throat he said, “You must be the American.”

Yes, she’s the American. The outsider. The weirdo who barges into rooms talking about toilet paper quantities and papier mache and she wanted the floor to open up and swallow her whole.

 

“And you must be my spirit guide. Come to help me navigate the perils of London?” Say what you will about Chloe’s verbal diarrhea, she’s the master of banter.  He laughed, a lovely laugh, really, and to her surprise, it didn’t seem like he was making fun of her.

 

“Nah, just Liam. I’m Rosie’s boyfriend,” he smiled warmly at her, stretching out his hand in a friendly piece offering.

 

She took it firmly. "Ah, so you’re the gentleman caller. I’ve been wondering when you’d show up, I was beginning to think you were Rosie’s Snuffleupagus”.

 

“Her snuffawhatapus?” he stuttered out, a confused look returning to his face. The blonde boy whose laughter had died down started up all over again. It took a lot not to smile despite herself. _What is he, a Tickle-Me-Elmo? Why am I making so many Sesame Street references right now?_

 

“It’s a Sesame Street thing. It’s American, sorry. It just means I was beginning to think you were imaginary or something. Just a joke, sorry…” she trailed off. Chloe had spent part of her tube ride home playing out how _cool_ she’d be when she met Rosie’s friends. In her daydream she was dressed in something very modern and chic, drinking pints with the best of them, quipping about this and that, being very impressive indeed. The reality was a disaster.

 

“I’m Niall!” The blonde boy on the floor piped up then, mouth open in a smile that was all perfect teeth and sparkling eyes. Chloe took that moment to observe that when he wasn’t having a laughing fit, he was very attractive. “You’re hilarious!”

 

“Well, I try,” she replied shoulders rising slightly, the corners of her mouth turning up into a closed mouth smile.  At least someone was amused.

 

They sat in silence: Liam on the couch leaning forward with elbows resting on his knees, Niall on the floor wiping down his face which was returning to a normal human color, Chloe standing up against the wall opposite of the couch twisting her hands nervously. 

 

“I’m so sorry, where’s Rosie?” she asked suddenly, remembering that she had a flatmate who was nowhere to be found.

 

“In her room changing. I was actually supposed to tell you to go in there when you came home, but I sort of got…distracted.” Liam answered. Chloe sighed.

 

“Yeah, by me!” Niall boomed, winking up at her. “I’m an all around idiot, see. S’hard to focus when I’m being a twat.” Chloe took a moment to be grateful for his efforts to spare her from the obvious answer: that somewhere between her strange ramblings Liam was weird-ed out enough to forget the message. She spared Niall a grateful smile.

  
“Thanks, I’m just gonna-” she pointed towards Rosie’s door with her thumb rushing towards it and tripping over the leg of the coffee table. Which… _of course_. She knocked frantically on Rosie’s bedroom door trying hard to block out the re surging sound of laughter behind her.

____

 

 

Half an hour later, she was sitting under a pile of clothes that Rosie had been steadily tossing at her.

 

“Oh but blue, though! God, with your eyes babe, forget about it,” Rosie had been talking under her breath for minutes now, pulling more and more garments out of her closet, one of which vaguely resembled a Halloween dominatrix costume. As grateful as Chloe was to be taken under Rosie’s wing, she really didn’t want to try and fit her boobs into the tight leather looking material that she’d been eyeing warily. She was insanely grateful, however, that they were not talking about her _episode_ earlier, and if this was the type of love and support Chloe could expect from Rosie, she was going to make her cookies at least once a week for the rest of their lives as a thank you.

 

Rosie was a design student at the _London College of Fashion_ and always looked so effortlessly chic and put together it made Chloe feel woefully inadequate. In college Chloe had adopted a somewhat bohemian, flower child wardrobe and she envied Rosie’s tailored edginess. Rosie who was so beautiful it hurt and effortlessly trendy all, dark hair, skin, and eyes. She was just cool. Chloe was instantly enamored of her and had been secretly vying for her approval the whole week.

 

“Well, love, what are you waiting for?” Chloe jumped, lost in thought while running her finger over a particularly beautiful, silk purple top in her lap.

 

“Oh, right, I’ll just get to changing then.” Rosie beamed back at her.

 

Three shirts in, Chloe knew it was a lost cause. She just wasn’t built like her flatmate. Where Rosie was tall and willowy, with a delicate frame and narrow everything, Chloe was curvy and a little broad at the shoulders. Chloe was short, wild blonde curly hair and blue eyes, with skin so pale it was almost translucent. Rosie was tall, dark skin, beautiful almond eyes, and poker straight hair. Why Chloe thought she’d ever fit in her modelesque flatmate’s clothes was a mystery and if she was being completely honest she felt more comfortable in her own flowy dresses anyway.

 

After Chloe showed her the fourth outfit and they’d both giggled at her in the mirror, Chloe trudged back to her room to change into a garment of her own. It really didn’t bother her. Chloe knew if she was going to do this making new friends thing right, she should be as much herself as possible.

_______

 

 

One uneventful tube right later, Chloe was sandwiched into a booth across from Niall and Liam, with Rosie’s arm thrown casually around her shoulders. They were all laughing at a story Niall was telling about work.

 

“…and I said there’s no fuckin’ way me boss is letting you outta this place with that newly mended guitar without payin’,” he descended into another fit of laughter, and so did the rest of them, it wasn’t so much the story, Chloe thought, but the way he was telling it. Like everything that happened to him was the most amusing thing he’s ever heard and everyone’s in on the joke. “So he says 'I’ll pay you with a song’ a fuckin’ song can you believe that?” Niall ran his hands through his hair and took another swig of his beer.  “So I said 'Alright, hit me with it man’ so he starts play James Blake’s _You’re Beautiful_ ,” he banged his fist on the table playfully.

 

“Ewwww,” Chloe whined.

 

“I KNOW!” Niall yelled pointing at her in solidarity, “Can you believe that, the nerve! I wanted to take his guitar and hide it away safe and sound so it could never be abused like that ever again!”. Niall was laughing but underneath his words held sincerity and conviction. It was horribly attractive. It wasn’t often that Chloe met someone with her same passion for good music. It wasn’t the first time since they sat down across from each other that she felt the irritating distraction of his good looks and personality. She hadn’t stopped smiling all night, and her face was sore in that wonderful way that reminded her she was having a good time. Niall caught her staring, ducked his head down for a second and ran his hand through his hair dragging his eyes back up to her shooting her a bashful smile. Chloe wouldn’t be surprised if he rehearsed that move in the mirror.

 

“Oh, babe, Trevor’s here I think we’ll be forced to talk to him,” Rosie whined to Liam indicating a tall man ordering a drink at the bar.

 

“Right, then, better get it over with, my turn to buy a round anyway, up we go, love.” He reached out for Rosie’s hand and Chloe’s eyes followed them as they glided away to talk to a black haired boy gesticulating wildly at the bar. He threw his hands up and cheered as he spotted them coming towards him and enveloped them both in a tight bone crushing hug.

 

“Who’s Trevor?” Chloe asked Niall after a second, turning back to face him. She caught him staring and his face immediately flushed pink though his smile didn’t fade. She wasn’t going to call him on it, but she _was_ going to feel pleased about it for the rest of the night.

 

“Fuck if I know, Blondie,” he responded taking a large swig of his beer and leaning back in the booth.

 

“You’re the blondie!” she replied placing her head in her right hand and reaching out her left to lightly run it through his hair. Immediately regretting it she flinched back. Chloe wasn’t so drunk that she’d forgotten that touching practical stranger’s hair in a dark pub isn’t socially acceptable.   

 

“I’m drunk!” she blurted out, as if that was a valid excuse for why she’d just groped his hair.

 

“If you’re gonna hang with us, you gotta build your tolerance up, Blondie,” Niall teased not backing down on the nickname. Honestly she didn’t mind. Nicknames mean familiarity, perhaps friendship. Maybe kissing in a cab on the way home. Whatever, it’s not like she’s thought about it or anything.

 

“I suppose,” she she sighed back, “Or, maybe, you should cut back.” She poked her finger into his chest. Drinking always turned her into a sassy little shit.

 

“NEVER!” Niall shouted, lifting his glass in the air, and downing his mostly full beer in one go taking loud long gulps as he went. As he slammed his glass down on the table Chloe started clapping for him theatrically.  

 

“They said it couldn’t be done,” she said in her best sports announcer voice. Niall beamed back at her, “They said no mortal man could do it, but that was before Niall…” she trailed off realizing she didn’t know his full name.

 

“James Horan,” he stage whispered back at her through cupped hands.  

 

“Before Niall James Horan: The man, the myth, the Irish legend!” She imitated the hissing of a cheering crowd. “He’s done it, he’s broken the record for douchiest thing ever done!!!” Niall threw a scowl her way.  Instantly she feared she’d gone too far but Niall immediately pulled roughly on her hand, forming her fingers in a fist as a zing of electricity shot up her arm. His hands were warm and strong, his fingers somewhat calloused, effects of being a longtime guitar player she supposed. When he brought his mouth close to the top of her curled hands there was a brief moment where she thought he was going to kiss her hand but then she quickly caught on and angled her fist helping him imitate a microphone.

 

“I just… my heart is so full in this moment,” he began. Chloe let out a squawk of a laugh. This kid was good. It was rare she met someone who could keep up with her, and she allowed herself to think that maybe she was a little bit in trouble. “I just want to thank me ma and me da, my brother Greg for giving me beer so young, even though he really shouldn’t have, and for all the pints that brought me to this moment here,” he let go of her hand, but then pulled it back quickly, “And, fuck, Derby County! Can’t forget them, now can I, Blondie?” She shook her head side to side in agreement even though she had no idea was that was. He dropped her hand gently, realizing after a moment that he had been holding it absently in his own as he watched her laugh, thumb rubbing along her knuckles.

 

“I’m going to be honest, because now that we’re best friends I feel like honesty is the best policy,” she glanced at Niall who nodded once in agreement and continued, “That was a lovely speech. It moved me beyond myself. But I don’t know what Derby County is. Is that where you grew up?” Niall stared at her in, what she hoped, was mock horror.

 

“Blondie, NO!” he shouted, several people at the bar turned around to stare at them. “Our friendship was so perfect, and then you ruined it! This is unacceptable, I honestly cannot look at you right now,” he crossed his arms and huffed.

 

“Tell me what I did! I’ll make it up to you I promise,” she begged, louder and more dramatically than he had. She’d started this bit and wasn’t about to be outdone. More people began to turn around to witness what they now thought was a lovers spat. Niall looked from their growing spectators, winked at her, and rearranged his features so he looked more serious and brokenhearted than any person who looked like a smiley face emoji come to life had any right to be.

 

“I just can’t believe I ever thought I loved you,” he spat out at her. Chloe winked back, and then leaned towards him, bringing her hands up to meet his clutching at them in a desperate manner.

 

“Please! I’ll do anything! ANYTHING! Please just tell me this isn’t it. Tell me I haven’t ruined it irrevocably,” she cried out to him. Chloe could tell it was taking everything in him not to laugh. He pressed his lips in a hard thin line, trying to suppressing a grin.

 

“I can’t believe I wanted you to meet my Dad!” He roared back. A girl at the bar actually gasped like she felt bad for him. _Fucking gasped_. It was too perfect.   

 

“Well I can’t believe I wanted you to meet Chester!” She shrieked back.

 

“WHO’S CHESTER?” Niall roared red faced, slamming a fist on the table. Most of the bar patrons were silent, some openly staring.

 

“MY PET SNAIL I’VE TOLD YOU THAT A THOUSAND TIMES YOU NEVER LISTEN TO ME-” She was cut off by the sudden reappearance of Rosie and Liam, holding four beers between the two of them looking alarmed and embarrassed.

 

“Oh, look babe,” she said brightly to Niall, taking a beer from Rosie, “Our drinks have arrived.”

 

“Do ya forgive me?” He asked earnestly grabbing his beer from Liam. “Can I still meet Chester?”

 

“Course!” she answered softly, meeting his sparkling gaze. “He can’t wait.”

 

_Yup_ , she groaned internally, _I’m fucking fucked_.

__

 

 

Three more beers and two hours later, Chloe was completely enamored of Niall James Horan. With his stupid skinny jeans, quaffed hair, and near constant grin plastered to his face she was quickly falling for the big dumb dork. She adored how easily he laughed, how laid back he was. At one point he had managed to spill roughly half a pint on himself and barely flinched just murmuring good naturedly under his breath about how he was a twat. He’d taken his phone out to show her several pictures of his golf clubs which she ooo-ed and ahh-ed over, indulging him like a child. _What a dork. What a handsome stupid dork._

 

“So, Blondie, why London?” Niall asked loudly, each drink he’d consumed had clicked his volume up a notch. After six drinks he was practically shouting at her. It was comforting to know she wasn’t the only one who was well on their way to being blitzed.

 

“Well, I interned at UNICEF in Chicago, and they wanted to keep me, but the only opening the organization had in fundraising and special events was in London. So, one uprooted life later here I am… and I love this song!” Amy Winehouse’s _Valerie_ was playing softly in the background.

 

“But, like, why UNICEF?” Niall smiled at her wildly bobbing his head back and forth to the beat of the music. She began to match the beat and they continued the conversation throwing their heads side to side grinning wickedly at each other.  

  
“I’ve always wanted to do event planning, I’m absolutely wonderful at it I’ll have you know. But I didn’t want to do weddings. I suppose I wanted to do something that matters. Um, not that wedding planning doesn’t matter, I just wanted to use my skills for a good cause. Not that weddings and love and all that aren’t good causes. I just…the children,” she trailed off hoping she got her point across without sounding like a self righteous do-gooder.

 

“For the children!” he raised pint in a toast and took an obscene gulp.

 

“Your nose is so red,” Chloe giggled.

 

“Like Rudolph?” he asked hopefully.

 

“Sure, yeah, whatever you say, Irish,” she sighed back at him.

 

“What about you?” she asked. They’d spend the past few hours in such causal and comfortable conversation that she realized that other than his full name she hadn’t spent anytime asking the most basic questions. “What do you do? You said something about guitars?” His face lit up immediately.

 

“Yeah, I work at a guitar repair shop in the East End,” he said. Chloe had to stop herself from rolling her eyes because of course. That was sexy, and she wanted to die just a little bit.

 

“Oh that’s neat!” _Neat?_ “I mean. erm, do you play as well?” she asked.

 

“A little bit, yeah, just for me’self, really, but I’ve been playing for ages,” he was suddenly focused and intense. Chloe guessed that his love of playing was less casual than he made it sound.

 

“I’d love to hear you play sometime,” she said, hoping it didn’t sound like a line because she really honest to God would.

 

“Sure, Blondie, but first I have to teach you about Derby County,” Niall commanded.

 

“Right, Derby County being…. from whence you came?” She tried tentatively, last time they had this argument he’d nearly fake broken up with her. Chloe didn’t want to risk another blowout. She was too tipsy to make it through without laughing, and she hated halfassing things.  

 

“Oh, Blondie, so young, so much to learn. It’s me footie team! DERBY!” he shouted aggressively. Two boys at the bar turned around immediately and responded with a similar synchronized chorus of “DERBY!”. Chloe allowed herself one dramatic eye roll for men everywhere.  

 

“Ah, the bros, singing the song of their people,” she teased. This conversation terrified her. She knew practically nothing about football American or otherwise. They run a lot; there’s dramatic falling and clutching of various body parts; it makes grown men cry: other than these facts, she was lost.

 

“Yeah, buddy! Now be honest with me, Blondie, how much do you know about footie? And keep in mind we’re best friends now, and we agreed honesty is the best policy,” he said, leaning forward. This wasn’t a joke, Chloe observed. He was being drop dead serious.

 

“Well, I know that when the World Cup was in Africa that Shakira sang that song,” she began, running her fingers down the sides of her glass wiping away the condensation.  

 

“And…?” Niall looked less than impressed.

 

“And that J-Lo sang it another year after that?”

 

“And…?” Niall looked genuinely concerned, finally catching on that she wasn’t joking.

 

“They run a lot? Like a lot. Crazy in shape those players,” scraping the bottom of the shallow barrow of her football facts, she winced as she met Niall’s eyes. He was looking at her like he was seeing her for the first time. The next fact she was going to spew was that they wear cleats, she thinks. Maybe. Shoes for sure. They may or may not be cleats. Niall brought his right hand up to the bridge of his nose, and took three deep breaths to compose himself.

 

“Ok, you know I really can’t be angry with you. You’re American; it’s not your fault. Tomorrow, though, tomorrow we’re going to the park, and Louis and I are going to teach you proper football, yeah?” Chloe shrugged, trying to play it cool. Internally, though, she was floating. Tomorrow, plans with Niall and some French kid _tomorrow_. It was her first Saturday in London, and she had been dreading it. Being friendless in a new city, she had planned on finishing unpacking her room, running errands, and exploring on her own. Fuck that, though, she’d much rather play football with Niall and the Frenchie.

 

“Ok!” she shouted back, sure that she sounded too eager. But Niall held his hand up and they high fived so she was sure he didn’t care. Friends, new friends and maybe more? A spark of hope rose in her chest. Its warmth spread out, unknotting the heavy lead-like doubt that had settled in the pit of her stomach earlier that afternoon. 

 

“But you have to promise me, hey!” he snapped playfully in her face. The beer was making her sleepy and less responsive. She really wasn’t used to drinking this much and she had begun to sing along to Elton John’s _Rocket Man_ echoing throughout the bar.

 

“What, I’m here! I’m here and don’t you dare snap at me I am a lady,” she emphasized the last word with a terribly affected British accent. She thought briefly of Holly Hillburn and winced.

 

“Sorry, Blondie, but this is serious. Don’t, and I mean you cannot, let Louis make you a Rovers fan,” he intoned, his expression dark, eyes a little wild.

 

“Well, since our friendship is on the line I promise. Neigh, I pinky promise,” she stuck out her pinkie. Niall immediately hooked his with hers, and they locked eyes.

 

“That’s a promise in blood.” His gaze bore into hers.

 

“And pinkies!” She said back refusing to break eye contact. His expression softened into what she could only describe as fondness, and as their pinkies remained latched and their eyes locked, Chloe felt her heart beat against her ribs and butterflies in her stomach. She would get a Derby County tattoo if it meant Niall looking at her like he was now for the foreseeable future.

 

“NIALLER!” A loud, boisterous voice cut through their companionable silence and locked gazes.

 

“Speak of the devil,” he winked at Chloe. “Remember our promise,” he whispered before shouting back to the approaching figure, “LOUIS!” He jumped out of the booth, and it was then that Chloe realized that Liam and Rosie had left again, when did that happen? How long had they been gone for? For a while there nothing seemed to exist beyond Niall. It was both frightening and thrilling.

 

“Fuck you man, you said you’d be here hours ago!” Niall reprimanded Louis, but his eyes sparkled and there was no real heat behind it.

  
“Sorry, mate, got held up,” Louis chirped back sliding in the booth where Niall had been sitting just seconds earlier, directly across from Chloe.

 

“What, doing your hair?” Niall reached out to ruffle the artfully tossed brown fringe.  

 

“Do it and you lose a hand!” Louis warned, eyes intense but crinkling at the corners with warmth. Niall cackled and withdrew his hand as though it had been burned. Louis, Chloe observed, is sassy. Also, not French.

 

“Oi, Louis, this,” he said putting his arm around Louis and gesturing wildly to where Chloe sat silent and amused, “is Chloe. The American.” Niall winked at her again and she felt another zing swoop up her spine making her shiver.

 

"Alright, there, Chloe, the American?” Louis asked extending his hand.

 

Chloe shook it and replied, “Yes, fine thanks.”

 

“Is that your full name, then?” Louis teased her, mischief in his eyes. Chloe immediately recognized it as a test, an _are you cool with me teasing you relentlessly for the rest of our lives cause we can’t really be friends if you’re not_ test. She recognized it immediately as she’d been administering Niall a similar test for the past three hours. He’d passed with flying colors.

 

“Oh, yes,” she gushed, “it’s my Christian name, but mostly my friends just call me 'The Yank’ ” A shit eating grin appeared on Louis’ face that said, _alright alright, you can stay but it’s a probationary period_.

 

“Gotta piss,” Niall said as he shuffled out of the booth and sauntering toward the back of the pub.

 

“Charming, isn’t he?” Louis asked her once Niall was out of ears reach.

 

“You know, despite everything, he really is,” she’d meant it to come out sarcastically and it didn’t. Allowing herself to momentarily panic that Louis had seen her flush, she started playing with her empty beer glass. Louis quickly shot her an appraising look eyebrows raised and eyes narrowed.

 

“Need another pint?” Louis asked.

 

“I’m alright, this was my sixth. I need a break,” she huffed.

 

“I’ll let it slide this once, but in the future you’re gonna have to champ up,” he scolded.

 

“Oh, I’ve been informed. Don’t worry. I’ll try to live up to your lushy London standards, promise.”

 

“Excellent!” he shouted as he scooted out of the booth and bounced to the bar elbowing his way through the other patrons.

 

Minutes went by and having nothing else to do, Chloe watched Louis try to push through the mass of people at the bar. Despite his smaller stature, he managed to push his way through unscathed. She kind of wanted to pick him up and put him in her pocket. Chloe knew she probably wasn’t the first to think it, but had also observed enough about him already to know she could _never_ say it to his face.

 

Chloe reached for her phone, unable to find anything else to do. She wanted to find Rosie but didn’t want to lose the booth. Niall would be back soon, as would Louis. It would be poor form to lose their seats the first night out; she’d probably never hear the end of it. Chloe found herself picturing a not so distant future of them all out at a bar: Louis would yell, “Someone get us some seats, yeah? But not The American, can’t be trusted with that, can she?” Everyone would tease her about it lightly for a couple of minutes. Niall would slip his arm around her waist reassuringly, and maybe kiss her lightly on the temple even as he did most of the mocking. And yeah, w _ay ahead of yourself there, Chloe._

 

Moments passed in a daze of daydreams. She couldn’t shake the overwhelming need for their affections, Niall’s in particular. She yearned for familiar and comfortable friendship, something she’d never gotten quite right. It’s not like she never had friends. Chloe always had more than enough friends, but it was that tightness of friendship she’d observed with this new group of people that she’d spent her life trying to have. Trying and failing. Often through adolescence and young adulthood, she’d watched her peers make the sort of fierce bonds of friendship that looked more like family, those people who would do anything for you. Someone who would get out of bed at three am to bail you out of jail sort of friend. Chloe had her Dad, of course, a man who’d do anything for her anytime, but never anyone else. For the first time in her life, though, in the short time she’d known Niall, Rosie, and Liam she saw a glimpse into what her life could be here. It was thrilling and wonderful and she hoped she didn’t screw it up.

 

Tearing herself out of her daydream, she noticed other clusters of people eyeing the empty seats of her booth maliciously. Chloe looked, from the outside, like one of the those insufferable types of people who thought one person was entitled to take up the space of four. She began frantically searching for a sign of her group before the panic that they’d all found her unbearably annoying and left without saying goodbye overtook her ability to think rationally.

Her searching eyes found Niall first. He was chatting animatedly on the far end of the bar with a tall brunette who was casually hanging off his shoulders, flirting openly and batting her long eyelashes. She was laughing loudly at something he had said while they passed the same drink back and forth between each other.

 

_Oh…Right_. The scene shattered her good mood immediately as familiar disappointment licked through her chest like a forest fire spreading rapidly through her limbs. Her face grew hot as embarrassment replaced hope, and she felt a sudden, sharp loneliness prickle in her gut. Chloe was used to this when it came to attempts at romance, internally kicking herself for letting this happen again. Often she came on too strong, always bursting out of the gates guns blazing. She joked too much, talked too loud, and flirted too aggressively. Chloe was reminded immediately of the last guy who’s number she’d asked for, some Northwestern student in Chicago, whom she thought she’d hit if off with, but when she dialed it two days later she discovered it was fake. 

 

Chloe watched as Niall brought his hand up to the pretty girl’s dark hair brushing it tenderly out of her eyes and felt like throwing up.

 

“Finally,” Louis said as he sat down across from her, dark beer in his glass, “I love this place but the service is shite.” He pulled a funny face at her before taking a drink. “Whatcha looking at, love?” he asked, craning his head behind him, eyes quickly settling on Niall and the pretty tan girl he was now  crowding against the bar. Louis glanced back at Chloe, a resigned look on his face which he quickly rearranged back into a smirk before he thought she’d notice. “Aha! Was wondering when we were going to see that famous Irish charm put to good use. He’s normally much faster than this,” 

 

Chloe felt the knife in her gut twist. She prayed the blank look on her face would be read as disinterest and not disappointment.

 

“Does he know her?” she asked, probably being way too obvious.

 

“Biblically? Not yet, but I’m sure our Nialler will take care of that soon.” Louis’ tone seemed bright and casual, but his expression oddly serious. “I’m surprised he still has girls to pull, if I’m being honest. That boy has slept with half of London,” He paused to give Chloe a pointed look.  "I think that’s why he had to leave Ireland, plowed through the female population, had to seek out uncharted territory.“ Chloe realized what he was doing; softening the blow. Louis’ words were a warning, their meaning dripping with _"aren’t you glad you’re not another notch on the bedpost”_. It was half working. She’d been saved the unpleasant awkward situation that was bound to rise if she slept with her flatmates boyfriend’s best friend.  Chloe would have been attached by morning, and when it didn’t work out, she’d feel dejected and wronged. Casual hookups weren’t really her forte.

 

Louis was watching her too closely, and Chloe squirmed under the attention. Maybe he was expecting her to pitch a fit. Or perhaps string some artful profanities together? But Chloe _refused_ to be that person.

 

“All of Ireland you say? Did he leave willingly or was he driven out by vindictive harpies?”  Louis looked at her with what Chloe took as respect.

 

“A little of both, I think.”

 

“Poor boy,” she lamented.

 

“Isn’t he, though?”  

___

 

 

Determined to stay for another hour Chloe ordered one last beer. She wasn’t going to be that girl; the girl who runs out in a fit of tears over spurned advances and misunderstood signals. Halfway through her unwanted pint she saw Niall lean into the leggy brunette barely an inch between them and whisper something in her ear that made her blush and giggle. They left moments later through the front door after Niall turned around and gave Louis an enthusiastic thumbs up, and Chloe an unreadable expression. She forced herself to smile at him, after all, he’d really done nothing wrong. 

 

His mouth tugged to the side and only broke eye contact with her when his soon to be conquest tugged him out the front door by his sleeve.  

 

As if on cue Liam and Rosie returned seconds later looking red cheeked and out of breath, like they’d run around the block once before coming back to the table. Actually more like they’d had sex in the bathroom. _Of course._

 

“We’re gonna head out, love, wanna come?” Rosie asked Chloe trying and failing to hide her panting. Liam was pressed into her back, smiley and bashful. If they weren’t so perfect looking together Chloe would be fighting the urge to barf, for now though, she just felt jealousy. They just seemed so comfortably happy together. Chloe suddenly felt heartsick like she was missing something she’d never even had, longing for people and feelings that didn’t exist and don’t belong to her.

 

“I would love to go home, I’m exhausted, thanks.” Rosie took her hand, hugged Louis goodbye and led her home. Despite the fact that Liam was plastered to her side the whole journey back Rosie didn’t take her hand away from Chloe’s once. She felt so wretchedly grateful she almost cried. 

 

Which she did, later, with her face pressed into her pillow lying on top of her covers trying to block out the sounds of Rosie and Liam having sex.

_____

 

 

Her head was pounding. Really pounding, like someone was repeatedly banging open palmed against the inside of her skill in a steady rhythm of _wake up you lazy bastard, time to feel miserable_. It was early, too early for the night she’d had. Bang, Bang, Bang, Bang. Chloe took her pillow off her face for a second before she registered that it was actual banging.

 

 For a brief moment, she thought someone was trying to break into their apartment.  With the way her head throbbed when she sat up, and her stomach dropped with slight nausea, she’d let them in to take whatever they wanted as long as they were quiet about it. Deciding to face her doom, Chloe threw an over sized hoodie on over her bra and underwear, opened her bedroom door, and marched down the long hallway to the front door.

 

BANG, BANG, BANG, BANG.

 

“Oh my god WHAT?!” she screeched as she flung the door open, not caring who was on the other side.  Who she expected to see early on a Saturday, she wasn’t quite sure; perhaps the police telling her there was something wrong with her work visa, a murderer looking for his next victim, her dad come take her back home? Instead she found herself squinting at Niall Horan who was beaming so widely it was like looking at the sun. She was too hungover for that.

 

“Rise and shine, Blondie! It’s footie time!” He practically sang, football in one hand, a small white crumpled bag in the other.

 

“Do you have any idea what time it is?” Chloe recovered from her shock fairly quickly, exasperation and anger stomping out any happiness at the appearance of the bright and handsome boy on her doorstep.

 

“It’s,” he glanced at an over sized watch on his right hand scrunching up his face in concentration,  “footie time!”

 

“You’re the worst, like literally, the worst person living. Donald Trump’s got nothing on you,” she bit out, flailed her arm in his general direction, and stumbled when she failed to make contact with his chest. It registered then that she might, in fact, be dying; certainly this is what dying felt like.

 

“Whatcha trying ta do, Blondie?” he asked looking amused and caught her arm to steady her.

 

“I was trying to push you down the stairs, but I couldn’t reach,” she whined. “I have no depth perception before noon, it’s a medical condition, I’ve been studied by scientists.”

 

“It’s not that early,” he said, gently pushed past her, and entered her apartment without invitation, completely unfazed by her rather violent verbal admission. “It’s–”

 

“If you say 'footie time’ again I swear to god I’ll -”

 

“–11:00 am, kid, and what a time to be awake!” She stomped behind him into the living room and he flung himself on her couch and looked up at her expectantly. Chloe was suddenly very aware she was clothed in a ratty sweatshirt that only came to mid thigh, her hair a frizzy mess, with sour hangover breath pungent enough to knock someone out.

 

“We did say today, right?” He asked brow scrunching up in confusion like she was supposed to know what the hell he was talking about.

 

“Today… for what?” Chloe’s brain was moving at a glacial pace. _Caffeine, I need caffeine._

 

“To teach you about football! You forgot, didn’t you?” Niall looked genuinely miffed that she seemed to have forgotten that they made the least concrete plans known to man amidst drunken banter that Chloe had written off as dead end flirting. When he had disappeared with the beautiful brunette without even exchanging numbers she’d assumed it was just Niall yanking her chain because she was absolutely clueless about football.

 

 “I thought you were joking,” she admitted honestly, trying to keep the hurt disappointment she had felt last night out of her voice.

 

“We pinkie swore. Does that mean nothing to you?” He hugged the football into his stomach protectively, like Chloe’s betrayal could deflate it. She was endeared to him all over again.

 

“You’re right, we did,” she conceded. She doubted in her state of mind she could win this argument. 

 

“So you brought me a football and trash?” Indicating his hand still clutching the rolled up white bag. Niall turned a bright, embarrassed red.

 

“I…Well, I was hoping you wouldn’t see. I bought you a pastry, but I got hungry on the walk over so I maybe ate it. Whoops.” He gave her a _'what are you gonna do’_ shrug accompanied by a _'sorry not sorry’_ smirk.

 

“Well I guess you’ll just have to buy me another one on the way to the park, won’t you?” She’d released all anger at being woken up so abruptly, resigned to the fact that she was going to be learning the rules of football from a ridiculous and handsome Irishman while terribly hungover.

 

A new friend, though. The ember of hope that was smothered the previous night was glowing hot in her chest again. Maybe he didn’t want her in the way she originally hoped, but from what she could tell he didn’t really want to date anyone. Chloe adored him so much already that the realization that he genuinely wanted to spend time with her, that he wanted to get to know her, made her giddy.

 

She could keep him and maybe this was better. Friendship was harder to fuck up, friendship lasted longer than romantic entanglements. At least they did for Chloe.

 

Twenty minutes later she was walking to the park side by side with Niall. Hair tamed, teeth brushed, buttery croissant in hand feeling the best she had all week.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe is terrible at footie, she still attempts to play anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the second chapter! Hope you enjoy. Thanks again to my beta and coauthor/mod Cassie. Check us out on [tumblr](http://adultfansofonedirection.tumblr.com)
> 
> [Some Recommended Listening](https://open.spotify.com/user/1260911781/playlist/1aNlOm2JeLJ4WCfWAHg7ea)

The amount of hair dye at _Tescos_ was overwhelming. Thinking she’d have no trouble at all landing on a suitable color to enact her revenge, Chloe was now facing one of the more difficult decisions in her short life. It was all worth it though, because every time Chloe grabbed a new box, each more ridiculous as she went, the gasp of horror Niall would emit was music to her ears. Nothing could spoil the sweet taste of victory.

 

Chloe figured Niall’s pained groan at the pastel purple box of LIVE hairdye meant she’d finally found success.

 

“Ladies and gentleman, I think we have a winner,” Chloe announced to the deserted aisle.  

 

“Please no! Please GOD, no,” Niall whined, horror painting over usually bright features.

 

“Hey, man, not my problem. Don’t make a bet if you can’t follow through with the terms. If you don’t do it, I’ll tell everyone that your word’s shit and you’re a spineless coward,” Chloe smiled up at him in mock sweetness, but triumph was written all over her face.  "You’re lucky I let you be here at all. I should’ve just slapped a color on your head and let you live with the consequences.”

 

“Fine,” Niall huffed, “I’m getting crisps which you’re not allowed to eat.”

 

“Considering you have the most deplorable taste in chip flavors I’m not too broken up about it.”

 

“Damn you!” he yelled, stomping away.

 

“Love you too,” she called after him.

Chloe was finally forcing Niall to make good on a football wager he’d lost two weeks earlier, a wager that she’d won by the grace of God because Chloe was terrible at football. Literally the worst. She’d warned Niall in the beginning that athleticism wasn’t her forte. It never had been, never would be. 

 

Her freshman year of highschool in an effort to make her a more “well rounded person" Chloe’s mom had forced her to tryout for every single athletic team the school had to offer. The tennis tryout was particularly horrifying because she gave pretty Missy Greene a black eye. The basketball tryout was the worst, though, considering she didn’t even know the rules and when asked to do a “layup” just shrugged her shoulders and flung the ball straight up into the air hoping someone else would catch it on the way down. In the end she’d made the cross country team because her athletic skill set seemed to be limited to running without falling over. That and the team had no cuts.

 

It was a joke among the five of them, just how horrible of a player Chloe was. Louis blamed it on twenty-one  years of American food, but he had the diet of a racoon and was still the best player in the group by a mile. What he lacked in height and showy strength, he made up for in speed and agility. Niall was a close second, and only because his bum knee slowed him down. He often had to take long breaks in the goal. He hated it, unlike Liam who was an insanely coordinated goalie, even if he did make an adorable scared puppy face anytime someone came close to him with the ball. Rosie played like she did every thing else in life; with grace and ease, able to make everything look effortless. Chloe actually hadn’t figured out one thing her flatmate was bad at. 

 

And then there was Chloe. Her first time kicking the ball she missed almost entirely, foot rolling over the top, caused her to lose her balance and land hard on her ass. She had improved from there, now able to kick the ball without injuring herself and others, but she remained hopeless. Louis called her _The Lost Cause_.  

 

The previous Saturday, Louis’ brilliant mind came up with a solution after Chloe’s thousandth failed attempt at scoring.

 

“Why don’t we try her on goal, Ni,” Louis suggested during their three person huddle. They were down 5-1, and it was mostly her fault. Every time she’d tried to pass the ball, she’d ended up giving it to George, the burly teenage kid they’d found in the park to be their sixth player. They had never had trouble getting people to play with them; kids were usually eager to join in the fun. But George, damn him, had ended being an exceptional player, much to Louis and Niall’s despair.

 

“No,” Niall scoffed, “absolutely not!” Niall glanced back at the other team to watch George bouncing the ball from knee to knee. Rosie’s head was in Liam’s lap sharing a private moment of laughter. Their casual nonchalance was taunting him. Niall playing football were about the only times Chloe witnessed him being anything other than carefree.

 

“Well, I wouldn’t have to kick the ball, per se, right? I couldn’t be worse with my hands than I am with my feet.” She’d meant it as a joke, but Niall and Louis exchanged skeptical glances.

 

“Blondie you dropped a bowl of popcorn yesterday for no reason at all,” Niall replied seriously. That she couldn’t deny; she’d been standing stagnant in the kitchen eating out of the bowl in huge handfuls and without warning dropped it, scattering popcorn everywhere.

 

“For the hundredth time I had butter on my hands!” she shouted. “Holding onto that bowl was like trying to grip a wet bar of soap,” Chloe lied.

 

“Still,” he said glancing once more at the opposing team with fire in his eyes. Rosie had started doing cartwheels and Liam was trying to whistle with a blade of grass between his thumbs and palms.

 

“Aw, let her try, Nialler,” Louis said ruffling Niall’s hair a bit. Nothing pleased Louis more than winding Niall up. It was hard to do, and Louis took any opportunity he could and ran with it. Sprinted, actually.

 

“Fine,” he cut back, shoving Louis’ hand out of his sweaty blonde hair, “but the first goal that goes through I’m pulling her out.”

 

“The first one?” Chloe huffed. “That’s hardly giving me a chance to learn! You know what? I bet I block it. I bet I block them all!” Chloe was frustrated with Niall’s lack of confidence and herself; she was sick of being the weak link. Sick of being the deadweight player that no one wanted on their team. She was terrified they would stop inviting her to play.

 

“Wanna bet?” Niall mumbled as he broke out of their huddle.

 

“Yeah, I do!” she shrieked. Louis stopped in his tracks, turned on his heel and looked at her with glee in his eyes.

 

“Oh, really?” he said, Louis’s normally high voice jumping even higher in excitement.  "What do you bet?“

 

"I, um,” she started, not thinking her empty threat would be taken seriously.

 

“If you don’t block the first attempted goal, you have to clean our bathroom for a month,” Niall yelled at her, a shit eating grin blooming on his face. Louis and Niall’s bathroom was a disgusting pit of boy and grime. Chloe gagged and for a minute allowed herself to be grossed out by the thought of it. 

 

 After a beat he gave her a _“that’s what I thought”_ look and started walking away.

 

“ _When_ I block the first attempted goal I get to dye your hair. Any. Color. I. Want.” Niall whirled back around to face her, eyes owlishly wide and shot his hand automatically through his hair like he was trying to make sure it was still there undamaged. He was vain as fuck about his hair; Chloe had hit below the belt. He started shaking his head frantically from side to side.

 

“This got interesting,” Louis cackled, his eyes sparkling impishly. Chloe and Niall were now standing face to face both refusing to be the first to blink. After a minute a cocky a grin spread across Niall’s face.

 

“You’re on.” He extended his hand out to Chloe which she took immediately to shake.

 

“You do realize this means you’re rooting against your own team, right?” Chloe bit out as they shook.

 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, me hair and me is my team. Everything else is dust,” he said as he broke off their handshake.

 

“Gross. You’re gross,” she replied exaggerating wiping her hand off on her tee shirt.

 

“Excellent!” Louis cried, slapped his hands together, winked at Chloe, and skipped away. Niall handed her the goalie gloves, damp with sweat and covered in grime.  The germaphobe in her cringed and she thought again about their bathroom praying for a miracle. 

 

Niall caught her cringe."Get used to gross, Blondie, you’ve seen our bathroom.” 

 

"I’m thinking green,” she threw back at him ignoring his comment.

 

“Why, cause I’m Irish,” he asked rolling his eyes.

 

“To match the color your face will be when we all see I’m a better goalie than you.” And with that, she sauntered away to set herself up in the goal.

 

The game started up again, and her stomach churned when she realized just how fucked she was. Hand eye coordination wasn’t a skill she possessed. Chloe especially didn’t relish the thought of cleaning that bathroom. _If I lose, perhaps I could seek some sort of asylum in France, I’ve heard it’s lovely this time of year…_ and _oh fuck_ … George had broken away from Niall and was running straight towards her goal with the ball. _RIP me, RIP my dignity RIP ever feeling clean again._ … but right before George drew back to shoot he was barreled over by Louis, who, though practically half his size, managed to knock him flat on his back with a loud “ _oof"_. Louis helped him up and saluted Chloe before grabbing the ball and running back towards the others across the field.

 

That’s how the game progressed over the next fifteen minutes for Chloe; in total terror. Rosie or George would come running towards her only to be stopped, often forcibly, by Louis. Niall was unsurprisingly absent. When the ball wasn’t near her, though, she had a chance to observe the game. Before she was so focused on not falling and passing to the right person she’d always failed to notice the joyful smile Rosie had permanently fixed on her face, or how, with his hair pulled back in a headband Louis looked like a majestic bird of prey, all cheekbones and sharp eyes.

 

Nothing, in Chloe’s opinion, compared to Niall, who’s goofy, shuffling, nervousness he carried in life seemed to melt away in play. He was lithe and quick and a competitive intensity burned in his eyes making them seem impossibly blue.. Niall was quiet when he played, a direct contrast to the boy she’d grown to know over the past month, a boy who was always talking, laughing, and eating. Always making noise. Now he was quiet, determined and focused. It was… well it was sexy. Chloe felt that pang in her stomach she’d frequently get when looking at him. He was just so beautiful. _What if what if what if_ chanted in her brain. A mantra of two heavy words she’d learned to live with the past four weeks. _That way lies heartbreak,_  she reminded herself. _This is better. It’s better this way, remember? This way he’s yours forever._

 

Chloe was yanked from her daydreaming when she heard Louis shriek her name. She looked up to see George barreling back at her for the 5th time except Louis wasn’t there because he was being physically restrained by Niall, thrashing around wildly. _Snake._ George was getting closer so she crouched down a bit because that’s what goalies do? _Shit I’m going to die this is how I die._ George stilled and lined up his shot. When he drew back his foot she her mind went blank, a feeling she would later describe as a zen moment, and with the picture of Niall with ugly jet black hair, she caught the ball right in her stomach.

 

There was a moment of suspended silence as she glanced down at the football in her hands as if she couldn’t believe she’d actually done it, and then with a shrill "YEAAHHHH” sounding through the air from Louis and a heartbroken “NOOO” from Niall, the silence was broken. Rosie and Liam rushed forward with George to hoist her up and carried her around the pitch while Louis danced around Niall who had crumpled to the ground face down in the grass.

 

It was, no joke, one of the best moments of her life.

__

Chloe was ripped from her triumphant recollection by raised voices, one sounding slow and weary, the other panicked. There was something vaguely familiar about the frantic female voice which was growing more shrill as the seconds passed. Normally Chloe wasn’t one to butt into situations like this, she hated conflict in general, but she found herself moving closer so she could make out the words.

 

“Ma'am, I’ve checked twice now, we don’t have the Salmon & Trout flavour out here or in the back,” the man’s weary voice sounded a bit like he was reading from a script.

 

“Well, young man, that’s simply unacceptable. I demand to speak to your manager. This instant,” the outraged voice replied. Chloe immediately recognized the voice.

 

Oh god it can’t be. Holly fucking Hillburn.

 

"Well go get them. NOW!”

 

Seconds later, a harassed looking pimply redhead came rushing out of the aisle and collided with Chloe who had been pretending to look interested in half priced paper plates. She considered leaving; dropping the box of lilac hair dye on the floor and running out the back of the Tescos never to return. Her sensible side, however, had been itching to make amends with Holly for weeks, waiting for her chance to apologize. She wanted to show her boss just how sensitive to donors she could be, but Holly hadn’t come back into the office and every time she called she either requested Sarah directly, or chatted away amiably with Harry while Chloe would stew in resentment. This was her chance to clear the air. In the catfood aisle at Tescos.

 

She took a deep breath and rounded the corner into the aisle, spotting Holly immediately. She was hard to miss; wearing the same tan fur coat she was the first time Chloe had seen her. Holly’s hair was wiry, wild, and shoved under a cloche hat. She was rocking back and forth on the heels of her black sensible shoes in front of the cat food. Chloe chose to approach Holly Hillburn like the frightened woodland creature she closely resembled. Two steps in Holly whipped her head around spotting Chloe immediately looking at Chloe like a bloodhound who’s found it’s prey. Chloe’s heart stopped and she broke out into a cold sweat.

 

"Mrs. Hillburn-” she began to launch into the apology she’d been practicing but was abruptly cut off.

 

“Chloe! Thank God you’re here,” she said. It caught Chloe completely off guard. Instead of the anger or indifference she was greeted with warm personable relief. Chloe walked more quickly towards her confident she wasn’t about to be screamed at.

 

“Everything alright, Mrs. Hillburn?” she asked gently as she stopped at her side, eyes searching the shelf to try and find what Holly’s was looking for. She spotted  a large empty space halfway up the rows of shelves she assumed usually held the ’ _salmon & trout_’ flavored cat food Holly had been arguing about.

 

“Humphrey won’t eat any other flavor, you see,” she sounded close to tears now, her indignation had leaked away leaving only panic.

 

“Understandable. It’s a good flavor,” Chloe soothed. It sounded lame, but she didn’t have a lot of experience in cat lady therapy.

 

“It’s the _best_ flavor,” Holly replied grabbing at Chloe’s hands. “What do I do? He’s expecting me home any minute.”

 

“Well,” Chloe began only to be cut off abruptly by Niall’s familiar shout.

 

“Oi, Blondie! I’ve been looking all over for ya. Let’s get the purple shite and get the fuck otta here,” Chloe sighed loudly. _Perfect timing, Niall, as always._

 

Both Holly and Chloe gaped at Niall as he bounded towards them stopping once he reached Mrs Hillburn and, without missing a beat, thrust his hand out to her. “Hi, I’m Niall, you a friend of Chloe’s?”

 

Holly’s brown eyes bore into Niall’s blue ones.

 

“Chloe, you’re friends with an Irishman,” Holly said breaking the awkward silence and placed herself between Niall and Chloe like she was trying to protect Chloe from the loud blonde intruder. Once blocked from Holly’s eyeline Chloe started gesticulating wildly at Niall trying to get him to leave. Niall, of course, ignored her.

 

“‘fraid so,” he replied hand still outstretched between them, a friendly grin plastered on his stupid face. _Niall’s going to get me fired, I don’t know how but I’m going to lose my job and get deported and have to tell everyone it was because of an Irishman and a kooky cat lady._ Neither tact nor subtlety were qualities Niall possessed, two things Chloe was sure someone needed when dealing with Holly Hillburn.

 

The three of them were suspended in this pose for what seemed like minutes, Niall with his hand out, Holly’s nose turned up in the air at him, Chloe’s hands above her trying and failing to make him leave. They looked  like actors in a surrealist play waiting for the curtain to rise. When a muffled alarm started going off from inside Holly’s purse, Niall dropped his hand and Holly opened her cavernous handbag to pull out a kitchen timer shaped like a cat.

 

“Chloe,” she whipped back around and presented her with the alarm placing it into her open palm. 

 

“Humphrey!” _Oh my god, Chloe panicked, is this timer supposed to be Humphrey, am I going to have to pretend that this timer is an actual cat?_ “It’s his dinner time and I don’t have anything for him.” _Right, a timer for the cat, not a timer that is a cat._

 

Chloe turned back to the cat food selection. She had no idea what to do and where the hell was that manager?

 

“I’m guessing they don’t have the right kind?” Niall asked pointing to the empty spot on the shelf Chole was staring at hoping to somehow make the cans of cat food magically appear.

 

“No, no they don’t,” Holly gasped out and grabbed Niall’s hand seeming relieved that he understood.

 

“Salmon and Trout,” he read out the name on the label affixed to the front of the self. “Well that’s easy, ladies,” Niall said quickly scanning the other cans of food. After a moment he smiled in triumph and grabbed two separate cans on the top shelf and presented them to Holly looking pleased with himself. In his right hand was a can labeled “Salmon” and in his left “Trout”. Chloe held her breath, not sure how Holly would take the silent suggestion she mix the food. Holly didn’t seem like a woman easily swayed from her convictions.

 

“That, young man, is rather brilliant,” Holly declared, her haughty tone returning in full force. Niall beamed like he’d just discovered the cure for cancer, picked her basket off the floor and started throwing cans of Salmon and Trout cat food in like a madman while Holly clapped her hands in delight.

 

Watching him Chloe thought, not for the first time, that she might be just a little bit in love.

__

 

 

“Stinks,” Niall huffed for the 5th time in the past fifteen minutes.

 

“Aren’t you used to this? You dye your hair all the time,” Chole said, spreading more lilac dye through the ends of his hair.

 

“S'different. Smells purple,” he pouted.

 

“Stop whining, purple is a lovely smell.”

 

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” Niall asked for the thousandth time.  Chloe picked the directions up and squinted at them. “Yup. Just apply and let it sit for four hours till the hair starts to fall out…”

 

"OI!” he moved to shove her off.

 

“Relax, spaz, I know what I’m doing. I used to do my college roommate’s hair once a month,” Chloe informed him, “Now be a man and let me dye your hair purple.” Niall laughed despite himself.

 

They settled into comfortable silence, Chloe moving around him to disperse the dye evenly in his hair. Niall was sitting in front of Chloe’s TV watching rugby, the manliest sport he could find. Chemical and burnt popcorn fumes hung over their heads like a cloud the room. It was a particularly hot night in London and Chloe felt sluggish. She hoped she could coerce Niall into a movie and a cuddle after they were done. They had gotten a later start of the hair dying than they’d originally planned after walking Holly home from Tescos with promises to come over for tea and to meet Humphrey a week from Tuesday. Holly lived in a posh, wealthy part of London, but Chloe was genuinely nervous at what she would find inside. She’d told Niall as much, but he dismissed her concerns with a barking laugh. Niall always saw the best in people.

 

“Thanks again,” she said, breaking the silence.

 

“For what?” his voice sounded distant, distracted by the game and lulled by her fingers in his hair. She moved around to stand in front of him, pretending to check the front as an excuse to block his view of the game.

 

“For helping with Holly,” she replied tugging lightly on the ends of his hair. Niall looked up at her.

 

“Oh, no problem,“ he took a swig out of the beer resting on his lap. "She seems like a nice lady. A little batty, but nice. Can’t wait to meet Humphrey.” They sat like that for a beat, Niall was looking at her like he had more to say, his eyebrows scrunched like they were trying to meet in the middle.  She stared back down at him, feeling a little lightheaded and not just because of the chemicals. 

 

It would be so easy for him to lean up in his chair, so easy for them to rest their foreheads together. A mantra of k _iss me kiss me kiss me_ thrummed in her brain. The air around them seemed to get thicker by the second. It was too warm and hard to breathe. The air crackled with electricity like the moments before a lightning strike. Chloe had to get out of the room before she did something horrifically stupid like kiss Niall on his dumb mouth.

 

“You’re all set, I’m just gonna step out and get some air,” her voice was quiet and high pitched as she let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. Turning on her heel she ran through the kitchen, out the back door, and onto the porch to heave in breaths of the rapidly cooling night air.

_Fuck._ Moments like these _had_ become less frequent in the past month; moments where it took everything in Chloe not to push Niall to the ground, crawl on top of him and kiss him until they were both laughing and breathless. They spent almost all their free time together now, sometimes with the group but more often than not it was just the two of them. At times it seemed like they existed separate from the others, like they were the only two celestial beings orbiting each other through space. Chloe found it strange that it only took four weeks to forget what life was like before she’d met Niall, four weeks to make the best friend she’d ever had. But, lying just below the surface of her skin, buzzing like electricity was that attraction she couldn’t stamp out. It was always there beating painfully, steadily, screaming to be let out.

 

The previous night they had gone out to grab some takeaway. They ran to the crowded tube through sheets of rain and, standing close enough to feel the heat radiating off each other’s bodies, Chloe’s eyes were fixed on his hand next to hers resting on the pole steadying himself up as they rode past countless stations to the best curry in London. She was transfixed on the veins in his hands, the pale skin white and red around the knuckles. How easy it would be, she’d thought, to reach up and run her mouth along the back of his hand, to press her fingers into the muscles and veins, wanting to leave her fingerprints on his skin. If they were other people, they’d run through the rain back home, he would catch her arm and pull her under a shop’s awning and they’d kiss. If they were other people, they’d be in love.

 

Sometimes she felt so transparent. He had to know on some base level how she felt. Right? Like when she looked at him the way she had just now, eyes sharp and focused, red faced and stuttering, he knew. How could he not?  Each time the panic would snap her back to reality and she slammed the door to her desire before daring to look back into his eyes knowing she’d only see kind rejection staring back at her. Chloe vowed each time her feelings spilled over like this to get a better handle on them. She was pacing back and forth just behind that line like a caged panther. A line that once crossed she was sure would destroy their friendship like wildfire.

 

She heard the door open behind her and braced herself hoping to God that this wasn’t the night they talked about it, hoping they never talked about it. If she lost Niall, she thought, it might break her.

 

“Niall looks like he’s in physical pain, you truly picked the best punishment ever.” It was Rosie, thankfully. Chloe forced out a laugh.

 

“Don’t do the crime if you can’t do the time,” Chloe replied and turned to accept the beer that Rosie was nudging towards her. She wasn’t unconvinced that Rosie wasn’t some sort of impossibly beautiful fairy godmother simply because she always popped up at just the right time with food or beer or nail polish whenever Chloe felt like she was falling apart. “To be honest, I barely put any dye in and I’m going to wash it out in like ten seconds. I’m not a total monster.”

 

“Mmm,” Rosie hummed studying her face. “He would have made you clean their bathroom, like top to bottom. He would have rubbed your face in it.” Her tone was a little more weighty, eyes boring into Chloe’s concern in her eyes.

 

“Yeah,” Chloe whispered back taking a long swig of beer, “I know.”

__

 

 

Two shampoos and one blow dry later Chloe was sitting on the edge of her tub watching Niall examine his now pastel purple hair. She was actually really proud of the way it’d turned out, subtle and almost stormy grey in some places. He kept tugging at the ends and smoothing down the sides over his ears reaching towards his face. She couldn’t take it anymore.

 

“Well?” she asked. Niall took a moment to answer.

 

“I hate you,” he huffed.

 

“Oh, come on! It’s not that bad, you can barely tell. I think you look handsome,”  Chloe didn’t know what she was expecting, honestly, but she had gone easy on him and maybe a thank you would have been nice.

 

“Humph,” he grumbled back. “I will say this, though, blondie,” he said holding his hand out to help her off the tub so they could stand side by side in the mirror, his arm thrown around her shoulder. 

 

“Love the way you styled it. Wish you could blow me everyday.” Chloe choked on a half gasp, half cough as Niall flung his arm of her shoulder in a flash.

 

“I mean, no, Christ, DRY. Blow DRY,” he shouted. A red flush was creeping up his thick neck and into his face and cheeks. They were now standing on opposite ends of the cramped bathroom. as far away as the small space would allow them to be, staring wide eyed at each other.

 

“Ni, calm down,” Chloe soothed trying not to laugh. “Since when do sexual innuendos freak you out?” Niall made near constant sex jokes around her, especially when they were at his and Louis’ place, those two loved to egg each other on.“You and Louis have a chalkboard in your apartment dedicated to dick drawings.”

 

“I just, I don’t want,” Niall stuttered his face now a beautiful shade of magenta. “I just don’t-want-you-to-think-I-think-of-you-like-that.” And _oh_. There it was. The thing they weren’t talking about, and it _hurt_. That sentence, one little sentence broke her heart. _Of course he’s not even attracted to me, he’s so far from being attracted to me that he’s panicking over a theoretical blow job._

 

**Don’t want you to think I think of you like that** , the words seemed to bounce off the walls over and over again driving the message home, ‘I don’t want you, and if you thought I wanted you like that, I’d be horrified.’

 

Chloe had three options. One, she could cry. Two, she could go into her room and never emerge. Or three, she could laugh it off and save face.

 

“Psh, in your dreams. I have a strict no leprechaun policy. Werewolf yes, pixie maybe, but leprechaun absolutely not.” She turned toward the sink again and began washing her hands, trying to give herself something to do. Niall walked back toward the sink and began tentatively tugging at his hair again, eyes darting from her face back to his hair several times looking sorry as a puppy who chewed up her shoes. 

 

When their eyes met in the mirror and Niall looked, well not happy. Sad? Frustrated? Chloe couldn’t place it, but she couldn’t help but fear that this awkward tension might never break. So she did the only thing she could thing to do. Cupping her hands under the faucet she brought them up and splashed him with cold water soaking his face and shirt. Niall’s expression went from shocked to mischievous in seconds and it wasn’t long before they were both breathlessly laughing and soaking wet.

____

 

 

“We really need to start cooking,” Liam groaned. He was currently sitting on the floor surrounded by takeaway containers, his back resting against the couch in between Rosie’s legs, one hand rubbing his stomach absentmindedly. “If not for my waistline then at least for my bank account.”

 

“If you started cooking, love, I wouldn’t mind,” Rosie replied softly running her hands through his short hair. Chloe had to wrench her eyes away from the two of them, it was too sweet and easy and domestic, and it was too soon after her minor heartbreak in the bathroom to stomach. She’d move on eventually, always did after a disappointment, but her pride was wounded and her heart hurt.

 

"What we need,” Niall said returning from the kitchen and flopping down in between Chloe and Rosie on the couch “Is a grill.”

 

“Yes!” Liam agreed. “We’ll grill outside like real men.”

 

“Hey, women can grill too,” Chloe protested.

 

“Meh,” Niall said shrugging his shoulders. He did this often, always trying to rile her up. Chloe fell for it every time.  

 

“You’re a caveman,” she scoffed. He grinned and plopped his upper body in her lap.

 

“Get off.” She tried to push him and failed. Niall mock whined and wrapped his arms around her legs circling them entirely with his wiry, muscular arms.

 

“Never!” he yelled voice muffled into her knee.

 

“You’re making me indignant. I’m indignant.” She picked up a fuzzy blue pillow and began hitting him repeatedly on the back of the head. Instead of moving he reached behind himself wrenching the pillow from her grasp and placed it on her lap. Turning on his side he settled comfortably with a dramatic sigh. Chloe echoed him and began to scratch his shoulders in soothing circles.

 

“How about this, Violet’-” Chloe started.

 

“Violet?” Niall asked immediately.

 

“Hair,” she said grabbing a bit of it and gently tugging on the purple strands.

 

“Right, continue,” he relaxed back down.

 

“You take your misogyny somewhere else or I’ll tell everyone that you cried watching-” Chloe was silenced by Niall shooting up out of her lap and clamping his hand over her mouth.

 

“You promised,” he admonished.

 

Last Wednesday they had been watching X factor when a particularly heartbreaking story of a man who’d worked himself out of homelessness and taught himself guitar sang a beautiful rendition of The Beatles _Blackbird_ ; Niall had bawled like a baby. _“It’s the power of music,”_ he had defended himself in a gruff voice after he’d gathered his wits and had sense enough to be slightly embarrassed over just how _loudly_ he’d cried. It was a moving story and the only thing that kept Chloe from weeping herself was how shocked she’d been at Niall’s emotional and raucous reaction. It hadn’t, however, stopped her from humming _Blackbird_ loudly when Louis came home from work sometime later causing Niall to dismiss himself hastily to the bathroom, not emerging for several minutes. She’d promised not to tell, yes, but if Louis found out all on his own, it wasn’t her fault.

 

“Cry watching what?” Liam asked excitedly, “You have to tell us now, Clo.” Niall’s eyes were wide and pleading as he slowly took his hand off her mouth.

 

“You know what you have to do,” she commanded.

 

“I’m sorry for being a sexist shite, and I won’t do it again,” he spat out, monotone, and threw himself back in her lap. Liam continued to stare at her with hope in his eyes.

 

“Sorry Liam,” she said starting to rub Niall’s back again. “It’s a secret I’ll take it to my grave.”

__

 

 

An hour later the four of them were cuddled on the couch together, Rosie across Liam’s lap, Niall across Chloe’s watching Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory at Niall’s suggestion. It had terrified Chloe as a kid, and she hadn’t seen it since. But Niall insisted that she wasn’t a well rounded person until she’d seen it start to finish. Protesting that the boat scene had permanently scarred her at age 9, they had rock paper scissored and, to her horror, she lost. An hour in she was pleasantly enjoying it though. She’d be enjoying it more if it weren’t for the constant buzzing of Niall’s phone. He’d been texting with someone frantically every minute or so for the past half hour, and it was starting to drive her bonkers.

 

“You forbade me from talking but you can text every five seconds?” Chloe finally snapped, as Augustus Gloop was sucked up a chocolate pipe. “It’s distracting me from becoming a real person.”

 

“Sorry, I’m actually going anyway,” he stood up and the pleasant and comforting press of his body into hers was gone, leaving her cold and confused. Niall picked up the remote and paused the movie. "Sorry lads, on my way out.”

 

He stretched dramatically, scratched his belly, and walked out. Not even offering a proper goodbye. 

He never did. A minute or so passed by in awkward silence, Liam and Rosie refusing to look at her.

 

“Clo,” Rosie began quietly, Chloe was momentarily terrified she was going to apologize for Niall, and she didn’t want to hear it. “Do you want to keep watching?” Rosie finished. Her eyes were warm and understanding, and it made Chloe irrationally angry. She hated that everyone knew, hated that they pitied her and treated her like glass every time this happened. Which was often.

 

“No, I’m- I’m actually really tired. Gonna go to bed,” she punctuated her statement with a fake yawn so obvious she winced.

 

“Night, guys,” she said before she closed her bedroom door, not waiting for a response.  

 

Niall did this often; it was an established pattern long before Chloe had come into the picture. Niall meets a pretty girl, Niall texts the pretty girl, Niall will drop anything and everything to fuck said pretty girl. Lather, rinse, repeat. He rarely sees the same girl twice, with the exception of Barbara, who, according to Louis lasted a whole two weeks, Niall’s personal best “Or worst, I can’t decide.” Louis had joked.

 

She was of two minds about it, really. She was and had remained grateful to Louis’ thinly veiled warning when she’d first met him; she’d avoided embarrassment and gained the best friend she’d ever had. Every time he left abruptly though it stung. Not just because she was jealous but because it was a shitty way to treat your friends. She knew Niall well enough to know he could be thick when it came to communication blunders, and that he didn’t mean anything by it, but every time he left Chloe could feel her worth in their friendship diminish. A little voice in her head would whisper cruel things _couldn’t get away from you fast enough, you’re just a distraction till something else better comes along._ The absolute worst wa _s you care more about him than he does you, your friendship means more to you than it ever could to him._

 

So every time Niall left it was like someone was scraping against a raw nerve under her ribcage, one that was left cracked and bleeding each time she was passed over for someone else.

Chloe was trying her very best to not to be clingy, she was. It something she’d started doing after she turned sixteen. Reflexively she’d dig her claws into people trying to keep them with her; always terrified she wasn’t enough because sometimes people leave no matter how much you love them. It was a nagging insecurity she carried around with her like a bag of rocks.

 

Figuring she’d tortured herself enough for one day she turned over, wrapped herself in a blanket, and fell into a fitful sleep.

__

 

 

Harry had brought some sort of leafy green salad with a questionable looking brown dressing for their lunch. Sure, it was healthy, but Chloe always liked when it was her day to bring food, she’d make them hearty sandwiches and always packed a homemade cookie.

 

“She actually invited you to her apartment? For tea?” Harry asked her, his slow voice laced with skepticism as he handed her a fork. They were sitting in the small park across from their office like they had everyday since Chloe’s second week of work. She came in the Monday after Holly’s meltdown to Harry’s announcement that he’d made her lunch. They began switching off days, packing each other more and more elaborate lunches, engaged in a sort of silent competition. Harry, it turned out, to Chloe’s glee and despair, was rather good in the kitchen. She was fighting a losing battle.

 

“Yes. I know. And not only me, but my friend, too. Although he’s the one who solved the great cat food crisis of 2015 so I’m surprised she invited me at all. Sorry to inform you but I think she’s half in love with him for saving Humphrey. You’ve got competition,” Chloe tried, and failed to keep the fondness out of her voice.

 

“Niall?” Harry asked, shooting her a smirk. Chloe wanted to hate him, she really did. He knew too much and saw everything and was ten times smarter than people gave him credit for, but he was too sweet to stay angry at for more than a second. He’d just trip on his feet or run his hands through his long curly hair or make her the most delicious lunch she’d ever had, and it was back to being mildly obsessed with him.

 

“Yeah, Niall. Despite his best efforts he’s actually quite charming. You’d like him a lot, I think,” Chloe said trying to sound passé about the whole thing, but she knew Harry knew better. And Harry knew that she knew, and her cheeks flushed.

 

“If you like him, I’d like him,” he replied. _Of course you would_ , Chloe thinks to herself. Harry seemed to like everyone and everything and everyone and everything loved him in return. The other day she’d overheard him having what seemed to be a very pleasant conversation with an orchid in the break room he’d named Lola, and she swore the damn thing bloomed the next day. She wasn’t entirely convinced he was human.

 

“Maybe I could meet him sometime,” Harry offered as he stabbed at a troublesome piece of spinach.

The suggestion hit Chole hard, realization dawning on her too late. Harry, like Chloe, had only recently moved to London and was often mentioning how much he missed his mum and sister and his lack of contacts in the city. He was always trying to invite Chloe out to concerts or for drinks but she’d always had plans. _With Niall._ Coming back to the office Monday mornings, Chloe recalled, Harry would always ask about her weekend and she would orate some lengthy stupid story about her new friends and every time she’d ask about his weekend he’d say something short like “nothing big” or “just relaxed mostly”. Chloe felt wretchedly selfish. Then the best idea hit her.

 

“Football!” she rushed out, too excited with her newly forming plan determined to make it up to Harry one thousand times over to actually explain herself properly.

 

“Football?” he parroted back.

 

“Yes! OH MY GOSH, yes. Sorry for yelling that was loud, but no we play football sometimes in the park. Nothing too serious but there’s only five of us and we need a sixth player and it’s perfect and please play with us please please we need you,” she was babbling now. Excited as fuck to introduce Harry to everyone.

 

“Are you sure? I don’t want to, like, impose or anything,” Harry was being polite, she knew, but he looked absolutely ecstatic. His wide grin splitting his face apart and dimpling his cheeks.

“No! We always have to ask some random in the park to play with us. Everyone’s going to love you, not as much as me, never as much as me seeing as how we’re married and all, but still I can’t wait,” she stabbed her salad with vigor and shoved the arugula -no, rocket-  in her mouth entirely too satisfied with herself.

“Ok, yeah. That would be lovely,” he drew out the word lovely and rested his head on her shoulder. Ducking down in a way that couldn’t be comfortable only to shoot up a moment later. “Married?”

“Yeah, you’re my Work Husband. I’m your Work Wife. It’s very serious. I mean, we share a beautifully decorated cubicle and everything.”

“I don’t remember proposing,” he rested back on her shoulder, nuzzling just a bit like a cat.

“It’s 2015, Harry. Women can propose,” she said, mouth full, petting his hair softly.

“Well I don’t remember you proposing either!” he whined out, “I’m a proper gentleman, I am. I deserve to be treated right!”  

“You’re absolutely right, darling,” she shook him off her shoulder stood up walked over to a patch of grass plucking a dandelion out of the ground. Kneeling right in front of the bench she looked up at him, catching his joyful expression. “Harry Styles, will you be my work husband?”

“Yes!” he shouted, jumping up from the bench and bouncing around. “Yes I will!” he grabbed the yellow flower from her hand and tucked it behind his ear. They sat back down on the beach together after a moment and resumed eating their salad.

“Goddamnit, Harry. What the fuck did you put in this salad? The tears of the gods? It’s infuriatingly delicious.” She dug in for more, unable to stop herself from shoveling more into her mouth in a rather unlady-like fashion.

“Nope,” he grinned down at her, “just your average, run of the mill fairy dust.”

__

Harry, it turns out, was positively dreadful at football. Not as bad as Chloe, but a very close second. If they were giving out prizes at being terrible, he’d get the silver. He somehow had managed to trip over his own feet twice, and once kicked the ball into his own team’s goal. Liam and Rosie were nothing but understanding, despite Harry’s embarrassed apologies and, the two of them being the loveliest humans alive, adopted him on their team with ease. Louis, however, made sure that the point counted for their side, so even with the absence of Niall, Louis and Chloe were still winning. Well. mostly just Louis.

“Where is Niall, anyway?” Chloe asked Louis for the fifth time.

“I’d guess between Trixie’s thighs,” Louis answered, juggling the ball from knee to knee with ease. They were taking yet another break. Liam took up his usual place in Rosie’s lap, Chloe braiding and re-braiding Harry’s hair while he hummed contentedly.

“Her name is not Trixie,” Chloe defended automatically, “is it?” She actually wasn’t sure. The last girl Niall hooked up with was named River. So. _Yeah._

“Isn’t it always Trixie? Bubbles? Mandy with an “i”? It’s all the same,” Louis had shot back casually.

“That’s a bit judgmental don’t you think?” Harry submitted.

“I agree,” Chloe said. Ok, so she silently agreed with Louis; the vindictive part of her that screamed _I’M SO MUCH BETTER THAN THEM FOR YOU_ twenty-four-seven agreed wholeheartedly. Heart stopping jealousy aside, though, Chloe believed in sisterhood above all else. “Just because a girl likes to have casual sex doesn’t make her a bad person. I mean, Niall has all the random sex he wants and no one says boo, but Bubbles does it and it makes her less than?”

“I thought me openly commenting on Niall’s sex life _was_ me saying boo.” Louis threw an exasperated look Chloe’s way. A look that said _I’m on your side, you know_. And she did know, and she was incredibly grateful. So she gave him a look back that said _I love you and I see what you’re trying to do but please stop before I cry_. Louis raised his eyebrows at her, annoyed she was pretending they weren’t on the same side but came over behind Harry to sit next to her anyway

“Can I,” he asked grabbing a section of Harry’s curly hair. Harry beamed back at Louis and nodded. “I’ve got five little sisters, so I’m a top notch braider,” Louis informed them proudly as he began working on the right side of his head. Louis liked to be the best at everything.

“A master-braider,” Harry said slowly a couple of moments later and Chloe and Rosie descended in a fit of laughter.

“You’re the worst,” Louis admonished as he tugged a bit on Harry’s hair, but his amused smirk spoke volumes. With Louis’ approval, Chloe knew Harry had been fully accepted into their little family. Her only regret was not inviting him earlier.

An hour later Harry had migrated to Chloe’s lap while Rosie played lazily with her hair. While Louis and Liam were practicing penalty kicks. Chloe was leaned over Harry their palms together trying to play backwards and upside down patty cake and failing miserably. They were cackling so hard they weren’t so much playing patty cake as Harry was holding her up with his open palms on her as he made upside down funny faces at her.

They were disrupted by a loud cough and Chloe snapped her head up to catch an annoyed looking Niall stomping across the field towards them bag thrown over his shoulder hair a mess.

“Hey Ni,” Chloe felt a surge in the pit of her stomach and a smile stretch on her face. He caught her off guard sometimes when she wasn’t expecting to him. She would find him on her couch when she got home from work, or he would pop up at the pub where the rest of them had met for drinks, and her insides would buzz, tingly and wild. Like when you lean back too far in your chair and suddenly feel like you’re falling.

He barely spared her a look before charging right past her and Harry to Louis and Liam.

“We gonna play or just fuck around?” he spat at Louis, the sharpness of his voice breaking the comfortable playfulness they’d been enjoying. Chloe had never seen Niall pissed, frustrated yes, annoyed when Louis didn’t wash his dishes, of course but there was always a playful calm underneath. Harry immediately shot off her lap throwing her a guilty look like he was somehow responsible.

“Yeah, sure, Nialler. Everything alright?” Liam asked gently not as thrown as the rest of them. They’d known each other the longest and Liam seemed mostly unfazed.

“Yup,” he answered, popping the “p” and opened his duffle to change his shoes. “I think we should switch up teams this time.” he cocked his head over looking at Chloe and Harry. “I’m sick of always loosing.”

Before Chloe had a chance to internalize the comment Rose latched onto her back.

“Yes! Girl team!” she cried, hauling Chloe up to her feet. “I’ve been dying to play with this season’s rookie of the year!”

Chloe was so grateful she planted a big sloppy kiss on her cheek and shouted “GIRL POWER!”

Harry jumped to his feet shortly after and grabbed them both shouting “GIRL TEAM!” shaking his now fully braided head around. They’re going to lose, big time, but Girl Team was the best idea in the history of ever.

“Great. Excellent,” Niall’s flat tone startled her more than anything else. She was actually getting worried now, but short of pulling him aside in front of everyone to talk about his feelings like a dad, she didn’t really know what to do. He grabbed the ball from Louis and jogged towards the middle of the field.

“Niall,” she tried to catch him as he breezed by, “Niall, wait up I want you to meet Harry.” She grabbed Harry’s hand jogging toward him bursting with excitement for them to meet, two of her favorite people together at last.

“Hey, Harry,” he called over his shoulder, barely sparing him a glance. Chloe winced. Niall could be thoughtless at times but never on purpose, and he mostly always apologized for it later. Now, though, he was being almost deliberately rude. Beside her, Harry’s face fell and his shoulders slumped. She squeezed his hand comfortingly.

“I think we might lose,” he leaned in and whispered in her ear.

“Yeah, but at least we’re pretty,” she beamed back.

“The prettiest!” Harry sang as he threw his hands around her waist and twirled her around.

Screw Niall, she’s going to have a good day.

Twenty minutes later they were losing spectacularly, almost artfully. With the exception of two beautiful goals that Rosie had slipped past Liam they were down 8-2  and the only thing holding the losing bitterness at bay was how much fun they were having. Both goals had ended in an over enthusiastic celebratory three person cuddle pile which only served to annoy the others, namely Niall, more.

For as much fun as Girl Team was having Liam, Louis, and Niall looked miserable. Niall kept snapping at Louis for not passing the ball, and had shoved, literally shoved Liam the second time Rosie had scored claiming he’d let the ball in on purpose. Chloe was convinced he was pissed at her. He was refusing to even look her way, let alone talk to her and when she wasn’t goofing off with Harry in the goal. She was mentally going over the past couple of days trying to figure out what she could have done to piss him off.

Niall did eventually talk to her after Harry distracted her by pointing out a bunny to the side of the pitch just as Louis kicked the ball in the goal whacking her in the right ear hard. It didn’t hurt as much as it was disorienting but Niall had rushed over to her immediately, grabbing her face in his hands gently smoothing over her red throbbing ear.

“You okay?” he asked frantically, “you’re not bleeding, but Jesus, your ear’s really red.”  Her ear felt hot and a stinging sensation radiated on the side of her face, but Niall’s hands were cool and gentle. “How many fingers am I holding up?” He brought up three in front of her face.

“Three. And, ow,” she pouted, lightly punching him in the arm, maybe playing up her injury a bit. It was the first time all afternoon he wasn’t ignoring her, she was going to milk it.

“Be more careful, yeah?” he admonished gently. He smiled at her, but it barely reached his eyes. Bringing his arms around her she could feel his breath in gentle puffs against the throbbing, hurt side of her face as he closed the distance between his mouth and her temple, give her a lingering ghost of a kiss next to her hairline. He smelled like sweat, grass, and boy.  It was a little strange, even for them, but Chloe was too content to care. As he drew back he smiled again at her, the full faced toothy grin she hadn’t seen all day and she smiled dopily back, glad she had an injury as an excuse for her flushed face. He tipped her chin up a bit looked like he was going to say something more, then shook his head lightly and walked back out onto the field.

As he passed Harry, his entire demeanor changed as he barked “Pay attention, mate,” at him and deliberately rammed Harry’s shoulder with his as he went.

“Niall!” she scolded. The high she was riding since he kissed her evaporated, and now she was pissed. The only thing that stopped her from screaming at him was Louis jogging up behind him and whacking him hard on the back of the head, trying to stop him from getting away by grabbing his shoulders.

“Cut it out, Niall,” Louis warned, his usual playful edge gone from his voice. Niall shoved him off roughly, ran straight for his bag, slipped it over his shoulder and walked off the pitch not bothering to change his shoes. Louis jogged after him and the four remaining players watched their argument just out of earshot. After a few moments of violent gesticulation from Louis, Niall’s shoulders sagged more and more as the moments passed until the blonde walked away with a loud “Fuck off.”

Louis shouted something that sounded like “…Can’t have it both ways, Niall!” before flicking him off and clomping back towards the others who were all trying very hard to appear as though they weren’t just glued to the drama unfolding fifty feet away.  

“So,” Louis said once he reached them, “Curry?”

___

Harry was wearing an apron that was comically too small for him with a lady’s bikini clad body printed on the front. It was a gag gift Louis had received from Liam some time ago that he’d never once used. Not because he didn’t like it, but because shortly after moving in together Louis had left a spoon in his oatmeal as it cooked in the microwave, causing a minor explosion. Niall had forbidden Louis from ever cooking after that. Harry was sweating over the stove humming softly to himself while Louis drew the most elaborate comic strip Chloe had ever seen on the kitchen chalkboard. It starred a penis named Dick coming into his own in the big city. It was obscene and inappropriate, so of course Chloe was co-writing it while the smell of curry and vegetables permeated the cramped room.

“No, don’t give Dick teeth, that’s weird,” Chloe dictated to Louis.

“You made me turn his foreskin into a hoodie but you won’t let me give him teeth?” Louis asked. “Really?”

“The hoodie denotes his shy nature and when he becomes more confident we can always, you know…” she trailed off using her fingers to mime a pair of scissors.

“YOU WANT ME TO CIRCUMCISE DICK?” he yelled back, “You absolute monster!”

“Ouchie,” Harry added as he stirred the rice.  

“Sorry. I’m sorry. He’ll just take the hoodie off when he gets excited, then,” she conceded.

“Damn straight,” Louis said and went back to sketching and although he was shit at drawing Chloe wished it wasn’t just chalk so it would stay up forever. She would miss Dick when he was gone.

“Whatever you’re making, Harry, it smells amazing and I’m probably going to eat it all leaving you both to starve to death,” Chloe said. Louis originally wanted to go out to their favorite curry place around the corner, but Harry had insisted on cooking for them as a thank you for letting him be a part of the game.

“It better be as good as Chloe claims, Hazza, or you’re banished forever from our flat. I’m talking life long ban because I’m famished,” Louis said while adding some scarily realistic veins to Dick’s body. Shaft?

“Of course it will be,” she glared at the back of Louis’ head. “I’m not a liar.”

“Speaking of lifelong bans… is it okay that I’m here?” Harry mumbled out. Louis’ turned around to exchange a worried glance with Chloe. It was a fair question. It was Niall’s flat too, and after the childish fit Niall had thrown earlier, Chloe wasn’t sure. They were going to eat at Chloe and Rosie’s, but Liam and Rosie needed “alone time” and she was more than happy to give it to them. They weren’t exactly quiet when they had sex.

“One, Hazza, this is my flat too, and you’re more than welcome,” Louis stated. “Two, Niall won’t be home for hours, maybe even till tomorrow so you’ve got nothing to worry about.” He hopped off his chair and walked over to watch Harry fluff up the rice.

“He said that?” Chloe asked. She’d been dying to ask Louis what had happened, what Niall said. It felt like a betrayal to talk about it in front of Harry, though, so she’d bit her tongue and waited for Louis to bring it up.

“No, but he does this, yeah? Just disappears, goes on his drives. It’s how he unwinds. He’ll barge in tomorrow, back to being good old carefree Nialler.”

“Where does he go?” she was trying to sound casual and only vaguely interested, even though she’d been internally screaming at Louis since they’d settled in the kitchen to bring Niall up. She was having a great night, but it felt incomplete and hollow somehow. Even if Niall were there, stewing in his room or watching tv in the other room she’d feel better.

“Don’t know. He always goes alone. I tried to get in the car with him once after we’d had a row, and he drove off with the passenger door still open,” Louis said while casually fondling the drawn on boobs on Harry’s apron.

“Like them?” Harry asked and Louis nodded. “Grew them myself.” They both giggled like six year-olds.

Chloe began picking the label off her beer trying desperately not to think about the implications of it all. How well did she really know Niall, the person she’d spent nearly every free second of her time in London with? Considering she knew nothing about his drives, she was worried it wasn’t much at all.  They talked, sure. They talked all the time but mostly about the little things. She knew he hated broccoli and was deathly afraid of spiders and was claustrophobic. She knew his favorite beer was Smithwicks and his snapbacks were organized in his closet by color, just like his shoes.

Sometimes, though, she would show up to his flat and he’d have purple bruises under his bloodshot eyes or he wouldn’t answer her when she asked the simplest of questions. And, apparently, he needed to go on several hours long drives to get away from his own friends. It’s not like she wanted to fix him or any of that cliche bullshit, she liked him as he was. But isn’t that what friends are for? Shouldn’t she know more about his bad moods than his shitty excuse for a car did. _I’m jealous of a car now. Great._ Lost in her own thoughts she barely registered when a beaming Harry placed a bowl of curry and rice in front of her.

It was so maddeningly delicious that Louis asked Harry to marry him.

___

Harry had left shortly after dinner, worried about Dusty despite Louis’ threats to chain him to the couch and never let him leave. Louis and Chloe were washing dishes in comfortable silence; she was drying as Louis made pathetic attempts to wash.

“Niall always does this part,” he complained poking at a dirty curry pan.

“You mean the cleaning?”

“YEESS,” he whined. “Let’s do something fun like getting drunk and throwing wet paper towels on the ceiling.”

“Niall would have your balls,” she chirped pushing him out of the way and going to work scrubbing the rice off the bottom of the pan.

“Right. He would.” He hopped up on the counter fluffing up his damped fringe in the sweltering kitchen. “I’m really glad you’re around, by the way,” he confessed after a moment. Chloe smiled at him, comically wide and stuck out her tongue. He reciprocated by crossing his eyes and jutting out his bottom teeth over his top ones.

“Attractive, really, very lovely, Louis,” she praised. He laughed and kicked out a foot to nudge at her hip.

“I know that Niall is too, you know. Happy that you’re around, that is.” Chloe froze her pruny hand hovering over the water trying to keep the flush out of her face, hoping Louis would attribute it to the heat.

“Just…careful there,” he added, softer. “I would hate if you weren’t around anymore.”

“Me too,” she replied, meaning it. It all felt too heavy, so she flicked dirty water in his face effectively stopping the conversation in it’s tracks.

_____

Chloe left the boys’ place not long after putting the last dish away and bidding goodbye to Louis, and upon walking out the door, she spotted Niall’s beat up car immediately. He was inside, drumming his hands on the wheel nervously and occasionally biting his nails. He looked devastatingly beautiful. The lilac in his hair had faded a bit more and the effect was almost ethereal. The setting sun was hitting his skin just right, and it looked golden and luminous like lights were turned on right underneath the surface. She found herself walking over to the open window willing to take the chance of getting her head bitten off just to say goodnight to him.

“Hey there sailor,” she said leaning in to the window, “Bitchin’ ride.” Niall turned his head to look at her resting his temple on the wheel of the car with a stormy expression on his face. Some of the boyishness gone from his face, making him look older than she’d ever seen him.

“Chloe, I’m-” he began starting to tug on the strands of hair just above his left ear.

“You’re going to go bald there if you don’t cut that out,” It was too fond to be an actual reprimand. He seemed to struggle for a second more with what to say until he simply reached over to the passenger seat and swung open the door.

“Come for a drive with me.”

It wasn’t a question, but even if it was she wouldn’t have said no.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed. Let me know your thoughts below. XOXO


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Niall and Chloe grow closer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to my beta, Cassie. Check us out on [tumblr](http://adultfansofonedirection.tumblr.com)  
> if you're feeling so inclined. 
> 
> Enjoy!

[Recommended Listening](https://open.spotify.com/user/1260911781/playlist/2TTPnMEA4vKjGDsu6dyQD9)

Holly Hillburn’s apartment was gorgeous. Originally Chloe was worried she’d be walking into a hoarder’s nest filled to the brim with old newspapers and cat memorabilia, disheveled and wild, a true reflection of Holly’s state of mind. The spotlessly clean whites and creams of her penthouse, open and sunny, richly and tastefully decorated home shocked her. Granted the furnishings were dated, making the parlor look like a perfect snapshot out of the nineteen fifties. Holly had mentioned that the penthouse and furnishings had been in her husband’s family for years. Chloe suspected she’d kept it the same for sentimental reasons. Heavy brocade covered the creamy-pink couches, multiple black and white photographs lined the long entry hallway, rugs covered the the surface of almost all the polished and shiny hardwood floors, and thick white curtains were pulled back by heavy gold ropes to reveal a stunning view of London’s poshest neighborhood, Kensington. It was the nicest apartment Chloe had ever been in.

 

“What did you expect, Blondie?” Niall asked, watching Chloe openly gape at what she suspected was a vintage Tiffany lamp on the dark polished side table. “She’s rich, this is how the other half lives.”

“I don’t know. Honestly, I was expecting a house of horrors. I mean Holly isn’t the most emotionally stable person I’ve ever encountered, and please keep your voice down,” she pleaded. There were times Chloe seriously doubted Niall knew how to whisper. He seemed to have two volumes, sober loud Niall and drunk louder Niall. 

 

Holly had disappeared roughly forty-five minutes into their tea abruptly and without explanation and hadn’t returned. In the paranoid part of her brain, Chloe pictured her hiding just beyond the room’s threshold listening to everything they said.

 

“You worry too much,” he practically shouted back his mouth full of biscuits spewing crumbs on his crisp white shirt. “She’s obviously thrilled we’re here, and I’m having fun,” he finished wiping his hand off on his pants like a farmhand. Chloe usually didn’t mind Niall’s lack of table manners, but if he got chocolate on Holly’s antique couch, she’d never forgive him. That and Holly might cut his hands off.  

 

“Niall, careful,” Chloe grabbed his hand away from the white button up dress shirt she’d insisted he wear along with his nicest pair of pants, the only ones he owned that didn’t have holes in the knees. It look a good half hour of convincing and a promise to buy him some Smithwicks on the way home as consolation. _“I look like I’m going to me confirmation,”_ he’d complained. Chloe lied and told him he didn’t.

 

He also smelled amazing, obviously thought to spritz on expensive cologne before they came, probably stolen from Liam. The scent was spicy and distracting and Chloe wanted to die a bit when they’d hugged hello earlier, resisting every urge to bury her face in his neck and never emerge.

 

“Whoops, sorry. Habit,” he grabbed one of the cloth napkins resting next to the silver tea tray to continue wiping off his hands.

 

“She did seem to be having a good time, didn’t she?” Chloe asked.

 

“Mmhmm, don’t think I’ve ever heard someone talk about crown molding so much in my life.” It was true. The first fifteen minutes of tea involved Holly launching into a full description of the crown moulding that lined the ceiling in the parlor with a pride that most women her age reserved to talk about their grandchildren. Chloe suspected she and Niall were the first people Holly had had over in a while as she mentioned the renovations to the parlor took place in 2002 but shared the details like it had been completed yesterday. Originally worried that the conversation would have lagged, or maybe they’d be murdered, Chloe and Niall found the first half hour of tea had passed with relative ease as long as they kept asking brief questions about various things in the room. A lamp, the rug, and of course, the crown moulding.

 

Wiping spare chocolate off the corner of Niall’s mouth she asked, “Do you think I should check on her?” Just as Niall was going to answer, they both heard a long and pathetic sounding mewl. There, standing in the threshold to the parlor was the oldest cat Chloe had ever seen. It’s eyes were cloudy and his mostly black fur was peppered with grey and white. It limped over to them slowly, sniffing as it went, punctuating each step with a small sound probably meant to be a meow.

 

“Humphry?” Chloe asked the cat like it was going to open its mouth and answer.  The cat stopped and looked up at her mewling again which Chloe took as a _‘Yes, it is I the elusive Humphrey’._

 

“Hey, buddy!” Niall called. “Come on up here.” He began patting his lap enthusiastically.

 

“Niall, he’s not a dog,” but even as she said it, Humphrey limped faster over to Niall’s leg and stretched his paws up Niall’s pant leg trying desperately to launch himself up on the boy’s lap. Niall scratched behind his ears and Humphrey leaned into it purring gratefully. “I think you’ll have to help him up,” she told him. So, Niall passed his teacup to her and gently lifted the ancient cat onto his legs. Humphrey head butted Niall’s stomach, turned around three times, settled into his lap and fell asleep moments later.

 

“Well, Chloe, I hate to inform you, but I think I found a new best friend,” Niall joked as she handed him back his tea.  

 

“Fair enough. There’s no way I’m as cool as that cat who seems to have fought death several times and won,” she observed reaching over to pet the bald spot behind the cat’s left ear. “But I don’t know how he’s possibly comfortable on your skeletor legs.” Chloe often commented on the spindly q-tips that Niall called his legs. Some days she wasn’t sure how he walked around on them without crumbling to the ground. Niall barked out a laugh at her, causing Humphrey to lift up his head in surprise blink twice and fall back asleep.

 

“I finally found it, Chloe!” They were ripped out of their worship of Humphrey by Holly’s sudden reappearance. She was dwarfed by a giant garment bag, her face hidden behind it, hand reaching all the way up to keep the bottom from brushing the ground. “Oh, wonderful! Humphrey found you!” she cooed. “He was being a little antisocial, so I told him to come out and greet our guests, didn’t I darling?” she asked the sleeping cat who lifted up his head to answered her with a loud and clear meow and shifted around to lie on his back in between Niall and Chloe, belly up like a dog.

 

“He’s lovely,” Chloe told Holly, honestly.

 

“Whatcha got there, Holls?” Niall asked pointed back to the garment bag.

 

“Right, yes. Chloe I found it,” she repeated and held out the bag to Chloe beaming. Holly would often begin speaking mid thought, like she was having a one way conversation in her head leaving Chloe to connect the dots on her own. She _was_ getting better at it.

 

“You mentioned yesterday that you still didn’t have a dress for the Gala.” Right. Holly had taken to calling Chloe, and sometimes Harry, at work almost everyday at noon for a chat. Yesterday she had grilled them while on speakerphone about the Gala. _The Gala_. The soulsucking, all consuming, probably going to be the death of her Gala. It was UNICEF’s largest donor focused event of the year and Chloe and Harry’s lives had rapidly become consumed by seating charts and silent auction items. It was the biggest event Chloe had ever organized and every time she thought about it her mind would spin off in a thousand different directions of things still left to be done, people that had to be called.

 

Despite being their biggest single donor Holly hadn’t attended in years, but somehow Harry and Chloe managed to convince her to come this year. Somewhere in the middle of their conversation, Chloe had let it slip she’d been too busy to even think about what she was going to wear. Maybe the planning would kill her and she’d be spared a shopping trip. Apparently Holly had taken that as an invitation to dig something up on her own. Chloe was both touched and horrified. At once pleased that Holly had thought of her and terrified of what the garment bag held. Either way, she’d have to wear it.

 

“It was my mother’s, and I think you’re about her size. She was another tiny, curvy little thing like you,” Chloe’s face burned hot, Niall coughed and turned to rub Humphrey’s belly. “You can use one of the guest rooms to try it on, fourth door on the right.” Chloe was frozen on the couch _please don’t fit please don’t fit please don’t fit_. She stood up and accepted the heavy bag under Holly’s eager gaze. 

 

“Call me when you have it on. We wouldn’t want Niall to see,” she said unsubtly winking at her.

 

“Why can’t I see?” he huffed.

 

“You want to be surprised the night of, don’t you? It’s not proper for an escort to see what his date is wearing before the event, honestly Niall,” she stated it like it was a fact that Niall ‘ _I can burp the alphabet in Spanish’_  Horan would know.

 

“M’not her escort,” Niall mumbled not looking up from rubbing at Humphrey’s greying belly.

 

“Well then who are you taking? Chloe Mack, you simply cannot go alone. People will expect you to bring someone!” Chloe considered throwing herself through a window, she’d break her legs and then she wouldn’t have to have this conversation _or_ go to the Gala. It was the perfect solution.

 

“Or perhaps you’re just going with Harry?” Holly continued, confused, looking between the two of them like she’d just realized something very important. Niall scoffed loudly from the couch, his posture immediately defensive causing Humphrey to jump off and walk over to circle Holly and 

Chloe’s legs seeking attention from a less agitated source.

 

Harry was and had remained a sore subject. Niall flat out refused to talk about his behavior at that disaster of a football game. Harry had begun to hang around more, and Niall was more civil towards him but never really warmed up like he did with every other living person on the planet. Chloe didn’t understand. Everyone loved Harry, practically worshiped the ground he walked on, but she’d given up trying to wrap her mind around it. Not everyone had to be friends she guessed, but it broke her heart a little every time Niall was cold to Harry.

 

“Um, well, I… fourth door on the right you said?” Not waiting for an answer Chloe rushed away to try on the dress because it couldn’t be much worse than having to think about how she didn’t have anyone to take her to the gala she was personally organizing. Or the fact that the boy she wanted very much to take her and then date and fall in love with her couldn’t even meet her eye over the simple discussion of her dress.

 

Too lost in her thoughts, she lost count of the doors down the long hallway and threw open a random one hoping it was one of the spare bedrooms. It wasn’t. Chloe found herself in what looked like a young boys room, around ten or eleven, messy and enamoured with space travel. Handmade planets and stars were hanging by strings from the ceiling in varying lengths, the walls were a dark royal blue with old magazine clippings and pictures of astronauts taped up. Dusty books with yellowed pages littered the floor and bed which was unmade.  A pillow was lying on the floor as though it had been kicked off in the middle of the night and never righted. Dresser drawers were open, clothes overflowing from almost all of them and strewn across the floor. It looked like a small bomb went off, or like your basic ten year-old’s bedroom. It was such a stark contrast to the rest of the penthouse which was beautiful, but lacked a lived in homey feel. This room felt like another house entirely. It was the first room in the house Chloe had seen that feel like someone actually lived here.

 

Suddenly very worried she’d be caught, Chloe ignored the voice in her head screaming for her to leave and slipped inside the room entirely quietly shutting the door behind herself. The room smelled stale like the window hadn’t been opened in decades even though it felt like someone had just rushed out minutes ago. Walking over to the desk, she found more books: science fiction paperbacks with men in astronaut gear carrying damsels in distress away from comically drawn aliens in the background. Chloe picked one up noting the clear rectangular dust outline it left behind on the desk’s dark surface. 

 

On a shelf over the dresser were several framed pictures, one of a small brunette boy holding up a large fish on a line, beaming a toothless freckled smile at the camera. In another, the same boy sat upon a broad man’s shoulders at the beach, both of them captured mid laugh, the boy’s front teeth partially grown back in. The third frame held a family of three, the same broad shouldered handsome man had his arm around a beautiful brunette and was kissing her on the check. Her hand was resting on the boy’s shoulder who was looking up at his parents making a face, nose scrunched up like the display of affection offended him, but fond nonetheless. The woman in the picture was so beautiful, creamy skin and dark hair, young and carefree and happy.

 

It was Holly. She had the same big brown eyes, slightly too large for her face, the same wild untamed hair whipping around in the wind but that frantic haunted look he always wore was gone. 

Here she looked carefree and loved.   

 

Chloe knew Holly was a widow, but no one had ever mentioned a son. People don’t like to talk about children who died young. Her eyes filling with tears, she scrambled out of the room, having enough sense to close the door quietly behind her and ran to the next available door, which was thankfully a bathroom, and locked herself in.

 

Those pictures looked thirty years old at least, their frames containing a family Holly never spoke of, a family that no longer existed. The books and newspaper clippings and photographs all old; a room frozen in time for a boy who never grew up.

 

Chloe didn’t care if the bag she was clutching held a dinosaur costume, she would wear it proudly, telling everyone at the Gala just who had let her borrow it. She hung it up on the back of the door, took a deep breath and unzipped the bag.

 

_Holy shit._

____

 

 

A drunk couple was arguing loudly on the street outside her window. Their flat was high enough off the street that she couldn’t make out what they were screaming about, but the noise was enough to keep her wide awake and blinking at the ceiling, mind running wild. She was too buzzed from the day’s events to fall asleep, anyway. Checking her phone for the tenth time in the past hour she read 3:18am, four minutes later than the last time she did. The screen flashed at her brightly, mocking her.. She flopped over again, squeezed her eyes shut trying desperately to turn her brain off.

 

Tea had ended on a strained note. Chloe tried not to burst into tears and nearly failed when she hugged Holly goodbye, thanking her over and over for the dress and tea. _The dress_. It fit like a glove and was probably the most expensive and beautiful thing she’d ever had on her body. Chloe continued to feel sorry for ever doubting Holly Hillburn. When Niall and Chloe left, she wanted to bury herself in Niall’s shoulder while confessing the discovery of Holly’s terrible loss, but he’d been so withdrawn by the end that she held back. It was better to keep Holly’s secret anyway, there was a reason she didn’t talk about it. Chloe understood, she’d been doing the same thing for years.

 

Uncurling herself from the bed she sat up deciding to fully embrace the insomnia and treat herself to a snack. She was on her way through the pitch dark living room to the kitchen, eyes only half open, when she heard a cheerful “Hey Blondie!” and jumped so far back she tripped over some shoes that were strewn on the floor and fell hard on her ass.  

 

“Whoops, sorry,” Niall said flipping on the light next to the couch and jumped up immediately. “You okay?” he asked extending his hand to help her up.

 

“What the actual FUCK, Niall?” she bit out and grabbed his hand to haul herself up.

 

“Yeah, oh, um, I couldn’t sleep,” he said matter of factly as if that explained why he was sitting in her living room at three o’clock in the morning.

 

“Do you think that has something to do with the fact that you don’t actually live here?” she asked entirely too disoriented to put up an actual fight. He just smiled and shrugged sleepily back at her. 

 

“How did you even get in here?” Rosie was spending the night at Liam’s place and Chloe sure as hell hadn’t let him in.

 

“Oh, I stole Liam’s keys to your place and made copies,” he said flippantly, like it wasn’t the creepiest thing anyone had ever done.

 

“That makes me feel really safe,” she said sarcastically. “Really, though, what are you doing here? Are you… ok?” she asked.  Looking behind her she saw he’d been watching the tv with the sound off and there was a nest of blankets tangled together on the couch like he was burrowing in for a long night. 

 

“Like I said I couldn’t sleep, and you guys have more channels than I do,” he waved at the TV.

Rubbing her eyes she tried to clear her head knowing she _should_ be massively pissed off and creeped out. That required too much energy, though. 

 

“Do you stay here often?” she asked.

 

“Define often.”

 

“More than once a week.”

 

“Yes, I do this often-” Chloe groaned. “-But Rosie knows about it, so it’s not like I didn’t have permission,” he defended.

 

“Why not just tell _me_ , then?” she rubbed her eyes and stifled a yawn. Niall didn’t answer, just ducked his head down and peeked back up at her through his eyelashes, offering her the look he knows she can’t resist. Long moments passed, Niall flashing her his abandoned puppy look that always got him out of deep shit, Chloe shifting from foot to foot waiting for an answer.

 

There were roughly one thousand questions running through her head, but she wasn’t sure where to start. Instead she just settled on the easiest one. “Want some ice cream?” Niall’s face lit up like a Christmas tree. If you can’t beat the crazy Irishman in your living room, join him.

___

 

 

Two spoons sat neglected in an empty ice cream carton on the coffee table while Chloe attempted to teach Niall Cat’s Cradle. They were sat on the couch cross-legged, knees bumping together, giggling like school girls because, for the tenth time, Niall had the string all tangled on his fingers.

 

“You would have been eaten alive on my grade school playground!” Chloe gasped out between fits of laughter. “You’d think a guitar player would have more finesse with his fingers,” she waved her fingers in his face.

 

“This game is so stupid,” he laughed backed, punctuating each word with a tug of the string.

 

“Stop, you’re making it worse,” Chloe yanked the string off his fingers and examined the knot of color that looked impossibly tangled. “My string, my beautiful, beautiful string! What have you done?” she clutched the knot to her chest and scrunched her face up and began to wail loudly.

 

“Here, let me,” Niall grabbed for it once more.

 

“DON’T TOUCH IT. You did this to us!” Her loud, fake cries lasted for two more seconds until they both dissolved once more into laughter. In between the sugar and the lack of sleep Chloe and Niall had descended into that late night madness where they almost felt high. Everything was hilarious and they couldn’t stop.

 

“It provoked me!” Niall defended. “Taunting me with it’s hot pink hue.”

 

“You’re bonkers,” she replied throwing the string on the ground and sighed loudly keeping her legs crossed but leaning all the way back so she was laying down the length of the sofa back resting on their many throw pillows.

 

After a moment passed Chloe couldn’t stop herself from asking the question she’d been wondering for an hour. “Why do you stay here when you can’t sleep?” It came out soft and slow trying to convey that it wasn’t an accusation.

 

“Honestly?” he began, “I don’t really know. I just have trouble sleeping. Sometimes I’m laying in my own bed, and it feels so foreign. It’s like I’m trying to sleep in a stranger’s room. And I feel kind of..” he trailed off unsure how to continue, “God, this sounds so stupid,” he said. Chloe quickly cut him off.

 

“You’re never stupid,” she admonished him. He seemed to take it as permission to continue.

 

“I just get a little freaked out about my life, you know? The life I’ve made for myself, I mean. I turn on all my lights when I can’t sleep and just stare at the shite in my apartment, and I ask myself ‘who’s stuff is this?’. Sort of like I don’t know how it got there or why.” Chloe was lying very still on the couch making herself stare straight at the ceiling, trying not not startle him. Niall didn’t open up like this often, if ever.

 

“I mean, do you ever get that way?” he asked. She wanted to say she did, but was terrified it’d all come pouring out at once so she stayed silent.  “When my mom left she took a bunch of our stuff with her. I was so young, and I started having these dreams that she’d come back and all of our pictures and nice plates and stuff were back too. Then I’d wake up and shoot out of bed only to find they weren’t there. Sometimes I’d wait up for her, thinking any sound I heard on the street was her coming back. I still get that way. Only now I wake up and it’s like I’m in a stranger’s house, you know? Like my room is someone else’s and I’m surrounded by all this shit that isn’t mine, that belongs to someone else’s life. It makes me claustrophobic and I have to get out. It’s just easier for me to sleep in someone else’s house. I don’t know. Does that make sense?” He asked her again, voice sounding desperate to be heard and understood. 

 

It did. It really fucking did and Chloe momentarily felt like she couldn’t breathe, as though Niall had opened up her rib cage and saw her life story etched on her bones and read it aloud to her. It was relieving to have someone who understood. Relieving and heartbreaking.

 

Chloe sat up slowly and leaned her body against the side of the couch to look at him. Niall was picking at a loose thread on one of their many throw pillows one of his legs bouncing rapidly refusing to meet her eye.

 

“I grew up in this middle of nowhere town in Illinois,” Chloe began softly, “Population 5,000 in the middle of a cornfield in podunk nowheresville middle America. And I loved it. I belonged and for the longest time I had all these plans to go to U of I with all my friends, and then we’d graduate and move back home and nothing would ever change. Life was always going to be rosy, it was all planned out. I was so involved, too, pretty popular, well liked, good grades, you know that whole thing. Everyone knew me and I knew them and _I loved it_. I fit. Things made sense,” Chloe took a deep breath remembering it; what it felt like when she was young and things were simple and the worst thing that had ever happened to her was getting sick at fourteen right before the state faire and missing the whole thing.

 

“Two days after I turned sixteen my mom died. Unexpectedly and under… not great… circumstances. And when you live in a town like that, everyone knows. Everyone looks at you and they just _know_. You can’t get away, can’t escape it. Every time someone looked at me it was like she died all over again. It began to feel like I’d alway be the girl who’s mom died, the girl who going to shatter into a million pieces at any moment.” She took a deep shuddering breath and remembered her mom, young and pretty and sad.  

 

“I had to get out. I just had to. I couldn’t take it anymore. I lived in this place where there’s so much wide open space that there’s not even enough people to farm it, but I still felt like the walls were closing in, like I was suffocating.  So I applied to school in Chicago and jumped ship, like that would fix everything.” He took her ankle and began rubbing her leg in gentle reassuring circles from ankle to knee.  “And then the day finally came. College in Chicago a real city with people who didn’t race tractors and who cared about the world and art and culture. And more importantly they didn’t know me. I could start over, be whoever I wanted. It was perfect. After my dad moved me in, I practically shoved him out the door.

 

But that first night I woke up sweating and panicked. I didn’t know where I was and everything smelled different and off.  I was so bad off that I had actually woken my roommate up in my panic. I started crying and pacing and she just sat there watching me have the panic attack of my life. It was terrifying, knowing maybe I’d made a mistake, maybe I didn’t want this. In that moment all I wanted was to go home. To a place that smelled like fucking cow shit for God’s sake!  So I spent the night sobbing to my dad on the phone and missing my mom more acutely than I ever had…”  she paused looking hopefully at Niall, wanting him so desperately not to feel alone, wanting not to feel alone herself, “and I did that for a month. Every night my poor dad would spend hours on the phone with me till I could get myself together enough to get back in bed and attempt to sleep.” She reached her hand out to lay it on top of Niall’s that was resting on her calf. “I got better eventually, of course, but I… I do get it, you know? I think everyone’s been there at some point.”

 

Wordlessly Niall took her hand and laced their fingers together, so they were palm to palm. She could feel his heartbeat through the flat, dry surface of it, she hoped he could feel hers. It was intimate, reassuring, and lovely. He beamed at her, all at once looking grateful and heartbroken.  

 

“I don’t feel that way here,” he confessed. “That’s why I stay here on the couch. Even if I can’t sleep I feel relaxed here. Safe. It makes sense here.”

 

“So you’ve been sleeping on Rosie’s couch for a while then?” she asked.

 

“I’ve been sleeping on your couch for about a month,” he replied, their eyes locked onto each others. Chloe was finding it very hard to take deep breaths the intensity of his confession not lost on her.

 

“Glad you have a place you feel safe,” she breathed. Her words hung suspended in the hair for several moments. Neither of them moved. 

 

Niall broke eye contact first as he shifted back, grabbing her upper arms while situating himself on his back with Chloe lying on his chest their legs tangled together. She wordlessly brought a blanket up over the two of them as he wrapped both arms around her, rubbing her back in slow reassuring circles. When Niall’s breathing became shallow and even, Chloe knew he’d fallen asleep.

 

She began to count his breaths in and out, out and in and didn’t make it past twenty before she joined him in unconsciousness.

_____

 

 

Chloe didn’t know where to sit Lady Charlotte Prismore, the woman who seemed to hate everyone and everything and was maybe trying to put her in an early grave.

 

“Maybe we should just sit her in the bathroom?” Chloe bit out throwing the post-it labeled “Lady Charlotte PrissyPants” across the seating chart to Harry. “Or better yet, in a car waiting to take her home the moment she arrives!” She’d had enough of rich people’s qualms for six lifetimes, so she lay on her back and starfished out on the floor of her and Harry’s tiny cubicle.

 

“Don’t think she’d like that too much,” Harry said through a yawn rubbing at his green eyes which, while hooded and bloodshot, still looked like majestic Icelandic tidepools. Damn him. Chloe was sure her hair was frizzed out on the floor around her head, skin paler than usual from lack of sleep and sun, making her look like a deranged snowangel.

 

“I don’t think she likes _anything_ too much,” Chloe whined. “The most ridiculous thing about this gala is that it’s supposed to be raising money and awareness for children who have no clean drinking water, but I’m sitting here worrying over a woman who requested no calla lilies at her table because they’re ‘cheap’ and ‘tacky’.” Chloe sat back up and grabbed the post it from Harry bringing it close to her face “You know what I think is tacky Lady PrissyPants? YOU!” and with that she crumpled up the post in and threw it as far away from her body as she could. It hit Harry square in the chest and he absorbed the blow dramatically, and proceeded to die a comically bad death.

 

Harry and Chloe were exhausted, practically at their breaking points planning UNICEF’s biggest gala of the year. They’d been coming in early, staying late and working through lunch. Everything was on track, but they could only deal with so many special requests from London’s elite before cracking irrevocably. Laying on the floor of their cubicle on Friday at 7pm, Chloe was sure this was the end.  

 

“I think Dusty’s forgotten who I am,” Harry huffed throwing himself down next to her covering his eyes with his arm. “She’s so neglected, I’m afraid she’ll reject me when I finally do come home.”

 

“You could always get Paula to watch her,” Chloe teased. Last week Louis had introduced Harry to the hilarious and beautiful Paula, a trendy leggy blonde, and he’d been gaga ever since, he’d even asked her to be his date to the Gala.

 

“Shut it,” he warned, but the dimpled smile that spread across his features was enough to make Chloe wonder if she already was. She silently congratulated herself for the hundredth time on adopting Harry into their group of friends. It wasn’t that Harry seemed unhappy before, but he practically glowed now. Spending all his free time with them, he’d finally fully assimilated into London and all would be right with the world if she wasn’t laying on the floor wishing she could run away and join the circus or something just to get away from a fucking seating chart.

 

They settled into silence side by side on the floor under the florescent lights wondering how it had come to this.

 

“If I die here on this floor, tell Chris Evans I always loved him, and spread my ashes in the Thames to Prince’s _Purple Rain_ ,” Chloe interrupted the silence. It seemed only right to share her dying wishes with someone.

 

“Done,” Harry replied. “Me too-”

 

“Chloe?” Harry was cut off by a familiar Irish lilt calling out her name.

 

“Niall?” she called back hoping he would follow her voice unable to will herself off the floor even to check if she’s hallucinating. “Is that you?”

 

“Where are you?” he called back voice getting closer until he finally rounded the corner to see her head sticking out from the hidden alcove of their office. It was Niall alright, and even upside down he was a vision. His face was haloed by the lights and she was starting to wonder if she really had cracked. 

 

“Whatcha doin’ on the floor, babe?” he looked down at her, eyes twinkling and looking slightly amused.

 

“Bemoaning my wretched state,” she whined back, “Are you a mirage?”

 

“We’re over it,” Harry explained, “completely ready to throw in the towel and start running with the wolves.”

 

“I would love to run with the wolves,” she said meaning it.

 

“Could you hold off on that for an hour or so?” Niall asked plopping himself down by her head. “I brought ya food,” he produced a large bag that smelled like fried food; Chloe’s mouth watered as she shot off the floor and flung herself at Niall causing him to fall on his back, laughing as he went down, wrapping one arm protectively around her making sure she didn’t crack her head on the floor.

 

“You’re my favorite. My absolute favorite. If you ever need a kidney or help burying a body I’m your girl,” she said into his chest. She didn’t realize just how hungry she was until that moment. Her temporary hatred of all UNICEF’s donors had dissolved any need for substance leaving only the need for bloody revenge.

 

“Noted,” he said, righting them so that they were sitting side by side of the floor. He squeezed her in tight with his left arm and kissed her on the temple before releasing his grip and digging into the bag of food. Glancing up, Chloe saw the amused, knowing look on Harry’s face and briefly wished she didn’t love him so much so she could smack it off.

 

“Brought some for you too, mate,” he chirped at Harry as he distributed food between the three of them.

 

“Thanks, Nialler!” Harry said accepting the box with his signature grin.

 

Inexplicably, Harry and Niall had become fast friends in the few weeks after a rowdy night of bonding at the pub. It had started off much the same, Niall showing up throwing Harry dark annoyed looks and acting cold as the others looked on in embarrassed disbelief. But then Paula, Louis’ friend from work, had shown up and Louis dragged her, Niall, and Harry away to play darts in the back. They returned an hour later laughing like they’d been friends for years. Sauntering back over, Niall had his arm around Harry’s shoulders cackling away while Harry’s arm was gently around Paula’s waist and bringing up the rear was Louis, arms crossed like a tiny king with a smirk painted on his features. He had raised his eyebrows to Chloe in triumph. Since then things had been smooth sailing. Boys are stupid.

 

“I think this may be the best meal I’ve ever had,” Chloe mumbled, mouth full of fried fish.

 

“Mmmm,” Harry agreed, “To Niall!” He raised a chip in a toast, and Chloe brought her fish strip up to meet his.

 

“TO ME!” Niall yelled snatching the food out of their hands and shoving it in his mouth. Barking out a laugh Harry grabbed another chip and silently asked to throw it in Niall’s mouth. He nodded and parted his lips wide bracing himself to aim. Harry drew back and threw, completely missing which resulted in a greasy chip landing with a plop on the seating arrangement.

 

“Of course,” Chloe muttered, snatching it off the board and throwing it at Harry’s silk button down paisley shirt. It was the best revenge.

 

“This is what you guys have to stay late for? The fuckin’ seating arrangement?” Niall asked. “Just put people wherever, boom, done! I could do that in me sleep,” Niall rolled his eyes and leaned over the board to study it.

 

“You’d think that wouldn’t you?” Harry said before Chloe could get out the insult she was going to tattoo on Niall’s face. Picking up the twenty-five page packet Sarah had handed them that morning and passing it to Niall, he rattled off, “Likes, dislikes, and special requests from London’s top people.” Niall cracked it open and began to read.

 

“Thomas Wilford: can’t stand the sight or smell of rosemary or garlic, hates white linen napkins, prefers a seat facing an emergency exit,” his eyes grew wide and continued reading, “Elizabeth Knight: is wearing white and doesn’t want to clash with the linens please plan accordingly!?” he spat out. 

 

“Jesus, there’s whole page for this Lady Charlotte Prismore alone!” he threw the packet back at Harry like it burned him. “I take it back. You two are heros,” he leaned back over their colorful seating chart presumably looking to see if they had in fact sat Thomas Wilford facing an exit or not.

 

“What’s this?” Niall said after a moment of searching, finger pointing to a green post it on the far right of the board where the staff would be sitting.

 

“What’s what?” Chloe asked and leaned over to squint at the names on the post it in question and read, in Harry’s elegant handwritten script, _Chloe + Niall_ , panic bloomed in her chest. She shot Harry a look that had she possessed magical powers, would have melted his beautiful face off. She threw an apologetic look Niall’s way hoping to laugh the whole thing off and then maybe she’d excuse herself to the bathroom so she could have a proper meltdown in private.  Chancing a glance at Niall she was caught off guard by his bright, closed-lipped smile and soft eyes studying their names.

 

“Looks like the cat’s out of the bag!” Harry said looking directly at Chloe. _Trust me_ written on his face, which was odd considering he’d just stabbed her in the back. “Go on and just ask him now, Chloe.” She was very, very sure that tomorrow she’d be poisoning he tea.  

 

“Really?” Niall asked quietly, beaming up at her. After seeing he wasn’t put off, that he actually seemed somewhat pleased Chloe thought she might as well go for it. It felt like getting on a runaway train voluntarily, knowing full well it’s probably going to run off a cliff and crash in a fiery inferno below. Figuring the gala was going to kill her anyway, so she took a deep breath and marched into battle, heart rabbiting in her chest.

 

“Um, well, yeah? Yes. I was going to ask you but I mean you have to wear a tux. And I won’t even really be able to talk to you a lot. Harry and I will be running around like crazy, and it’s so stupid you know? But yeah, if you could do that for me that would be…nice.” She finished lamely feeling fourteen years old and suddenly finding the foil on the side of her takeaway box very interesting.

 

“Fuck yeah!” Niall blurted out almost immediately looking so entirely pleased with himself that he cockily leaned back on one elbow and ran a hand through his hair throwing a wink her way. “Gonna be the best date you’ve ever had, Blondie.”

 

“I bet,” she replied not a trace of sarcasm in her voice. Niall threw himself on his back closing his eyes and folded his hands on his stomach. He began to hum a random song, something Chloe noticed he only did when he was really blissfully at ease. Chloe couldn’t quite categorize what she was feeling, only that it was bliss; like drinking fresh lemonade on a sizzling hot day, like seeing the first spring blossoms after a long hard winter or snuggling in bed during a thunderstorm, something close to pure untouchable happiness.  

 

“Thanks,” she breathed out, tension leaving her shoulders. She felt ready to take on the seating chart, possibly the world.

 

Harry was staring at her intently, shit eating grin on his face his chin resting in his hand. She couldn’t even bring herself to shoot him a dirty look. Chloe was going to have to bake him a cake or buy him a house in thanks.

 

Looking at Niall, his humming picking up as he started to play enthusiastic air guitar, singing out nonsense syllables as he did, Chloe was finally able to identify the floating feeling in her body. Hope. 

_______

 

Whiskey was the best. Truly and honestly a thing of beauty even more so when Liam kept buying her glasses full of it, the really expensive stuff that didn’t need to be mixed with soda to make it drinkable.

 

“You told me Niall was going to be here,” Chloe said, her voice muffled into Louis’ back. She had her arms around him clutching onto his stomach huffing into his shoulder. A night off was a perfect, wonderful concept. Louis should be the Prime Minister.

 

“Soon, love, soon,” she heard Louis answer and walked them both awkwardly over to a table they’d snagged as Chloe was refusing to let go of him. He backed her into a chair and sat on her lap.

 

“You said that an hour ago!” she admonished.

 

“I said that five minutes ago,” he defended rubbing at her hands on his stomach with his open palm. 

 

“If I leave you here for a second are you gonna fall over? Throw up?” he asked over his shoulder. She shook  her head no into his back.

 

“I’m fine,” she said.

 

“You’re more drunk than I’ve seen you in a while.” Chloe rolled her eyes.

 

“This was your idea, I’ll have you know,” she took a hand off his belly and poked him in the back. Louis had picked Harry and Chloe up from work unannounced and dragged them to a pub for a night off.  They had followed him out the door dead eyed and defeated. There was no denying Louis, even if the gala was three days away and Harry and Chloe were minutes from death.

 

Louis jumped off her lap, patted her on the cheek, and bounded away to do God knows what leaving Chloe pleasantly floaty and alone. Paula and Harry were hovered around an ancient looking jukebox trying to out hipster each other and Liam was on a business call outside. She put her feet up on an empty chair and ran her finger in circles along the top of her empty glass.

 

“Buy you a drink?” a voice behind her asked. She turned around and looked up at a ruddy cheeked stranger leering down at her wearing a determined expression. Chloe really wasn’t in the mood tonight. She just wanted a night wrapped up in her friends. 

 

“No thanks, I’m all good,” she answered turning her eyes back down to the table wishing she hadn’t downed her drink so quickly so she’d have a valid excuse for not having another.

 

“Oh, come on, love,” he persisted picking her feet up off the chair and sitting down across from her placing her feet in his lap which was rude and _gross_. Immediately she sat up straight and yanked her feet out of his lap. Usually, if her head wasn’t cloudy with liquor she could come up with a clever retort destroying his inflated ego, but she was so shocked all she could come up with was “That seat’s taken.”

 

“Doesn’t look like it,” he said leaning forward reaching out his hand like he was going to put in on her bare knee. She scrambled to her feet warning sirens blaring in her head.

 

“Fuck off,” she said because _how very dare he_. She was about to tuck tail and run when an arm wrapped around her waist. Before she could push it away she turned to see it was Niall his nostrils flared, shoulders tense. She leaned into the touch grateful it was two against one now, and fuck this guy.

 

“Everything alright?” Niall asked her not breaking eye contact with the asshole in his seat.

 

“Yes. No.” Chloe didn’t need anyone fighting her battles for her, but this guy needed to leave the bar _now_. Then maybe he should be exiled from the country. 

 

“You heard her. Fuck off,” he said. They stared each other down for a second more before he stood up and walked away puffing out his chest like he didn’t just lose a pissing contest.  Niall led her back into her chair, but didn’t fuss over her.  

 

“Alright?” he asked again taking up the chair across from her. He was wearing a plaid button down shirt, the top couple of buttons undone, some chest hair peeking through. Chloe took a moment to appreciate how wonderful he looked and that Niall would _never_ pull her feet into his lap; he would wait for her to do it herself.   

 

“Yeah. But fuck that guy,” she answered leaning towards him, extending her hand near his on the table. He took her hand and gave it a light reassuring squeeze.

 

“What a douche,” he agreed then let it drop. Niall never pushed. Niall let things go when they needed to be. Niall was very nearly perfect especially when Chloe was four drinks in.  Liam came back to the table looking a little deflated, but he had a strict no work talk rule when they were out, so Chloe just patted him on the back when he sat.

 

“Drinks?” Niall asked.

 

“Sure,” Liam replied.

 

“Water?” Chloe piped out, and Niall nodded and poked her nose as he stood up and pushed toward the bar.

 

She turned back to Liam, continuing to feel all sorts of affectionate towards her friends. “ _I’m Liam, and I look like a puppy dog_ ,” she said with a truly awful British accent.

 

“What?” he asked smiling at her with his whole face.

 

“My impression of you. You have to admit, it’s pretty good.”

 

“Spot on, like hearing myself on a recording,” he laughed but his eyes caught something over her shoulder. Following his line of sight, she saw Niall engaged in conversation with a pretty, dark haired girl. She was just his type too, tan and tall. Chloe sighed. Feeling that familiar pang in her chest she allowed herself a flash of anger that Niall was going to leave before they’d even had time to properly catch up. They hadn’t had much time together lately that didn’t involve Chloe coming home from work and throwing herself on the couch with him, both of them falling asleep soon after.

 

Whatever. Maybe she’d be able to convince Liam to play thumb wars with her.

 

“Sometimes-” Liam started, and Chloe tore her eyes from the image of a perfectly manicured hand resting loosely on Niall’s bicep to give Liam her full attention.

 

“Sometimes?” she urged him to continue. He looked frustrated and was pinching his lips together like was trying to keep a floodgate from opening.

 

“Sometimes I just wish Niall would pull his head out of his ass,” Liam finished. It was the meanest thing she’d ever heard him say about anyone.

 

“Aw, he’s not that bad Liam,” Chloe said, trying to turn it into a joke.

 

“He’s a total idiot, and I’m sorry.”

 

“He’s my best friend, and I love him no matter what,” she answered reflexively, desperate to defend Niall since he wasn’t there to do it himself. Liam winced at her words, but nodded his head in understanding and thankfully let it drop.  

 

“Thumb war?” she said offering up her right hand.

 

“You’re on,” he said back, full smile returning. Before they could start, though, an arm was reaching above her to place a glass of water in front of her.

 

“Sorry it took so long,” Niall said, handing a beer off to Liam who looked pleasantly surprised. Chancing a glance back at the bar Chloe saw the girl Niall had been talking to staring back at her with disappointment and shock.

 

Chloe’s water was incredibly refreshing, truly the best water she’d ever tasted.

___________

 

They walked home together later, hand in hand, buzzing on alcohol and life and youth. As they fell asleep on her couch wrapped around each other, Chloe tried not to feel smug that only _she_ had a favorite place on his shoulder where her head fit perfectly, that only when _she_ was with him did he sleep through the night and wake up with a smile on his face.  He never complained when her hair tickled his neck or she drooled on his shirt. Only _she_ got to see that the way he fully stretched out like a cat before actually getting up was an important part of his morning ritual. No one else was privileged enough to see him blink awake and know the differences in his morning yawns. Only Chloe.

 

Falling asleep tucked into him she felt lucky. So insanely lucky that she had found the loveliest friends in the world, people who allowed her the space to be herself but never let her become lonely. Friends who made her the best version of herself. When she was with them, it always felt like her favorite days of the year. Like the smell of cinnamon on Christmas morning while bundled up in a cozy sweater, hands around a mug of steaming peppermint tea. People who felt like home.

 

And Niall. She tried not to feel like Niall was slowly becoming hers, like they only belonged to each other now. It was an impossible task though because tonight he had chosen her. It didn’t matter that there was a to-do list on her desk the length of a Russian novel, or that Niall was snoring near her ear.

 

He’d chosen her and for the first time ever everything was perfect.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is a gala and too much wine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to my beta, Cassie.  
> Check us out on [tumblr](http://adultfansofonedirection.tumblr.com) if you're so inclined.

[ Recommend Listening.  ](https://open.spotify.com/user/1260911781/playlist/1SSVJ8ZuxdkYt1mEjspFY0)

 

Chloe’s feet were already killing her and she hadn’t even put her heels on yet. In her defense, she’d spent the past three hours running the length of the decadent and elaborately glitzed-out ballroom of _The Dorchester_ endlessly checking over every last detail. Had she ordered the right thread-count linens for the tables? Were the delicate blue-white flowers canopied from the ceiling in the entryway high enough to give the illusion of space, while low enough that when the guests entered the ballroom the room would appear magnificent? Had she called the caterers to make sure the kosher ordered meals were delivered separately from the others? _Yes?_ Yes, she had that morning right after she’d gone to the roof of the hotel and screamed herself hoarse for the second time. It was a lucky thing that she didn’t have to make any speeches later on.

All too soon it was time to get ready, and Harry had physically dragged her away from the centerpieces to her room. Her saint of a boss, Sarah had reserved a room for her in the hotel for the night as a thank you. “Just go on and collapse after you’re done schoomizing. Trust me you’re going to need it,” she’d told her the day before. It also saved Chloe the trouble of having to go home and come back to get ready; plus, Holly was bringing the dress directly to the hotel. There was no way Chloe was going to risk ruining it on the streets of London, or, God forbid, the Tube.

The question of whether Holly was actually attending remained unanswered. Last week Chloe had been flooded with mixed information. _“Well of course I’m coming, love! I’m the best donor you have,”_ was Tuesday, but just yesterday she and Harry had picked up the phone and were greeted by a panicked and watery sounding Mrs. Hillburn who, for the better part of 45 minutes sobbed about how she couldn’t possibly leave Humphry alone one a Saturday night because, of course, Humphrey was scared of the dark. Chloe bit her tongue when she remembered that cats are nocturnal. As a result, Chloe was worried that Holly would forget she was loaning her a dress in the first place, and she’d packed a spare just in case.

The hotel room was gorgeous with a view of Hyde Park just outside the window. The bed was plush and the sheets were buttery soft. Chloe had groaned for a full five minutes into the duvet and had to resist every urge to take a quick nap. The thought of having to get back on her feet, shower and try to tame her hair and face was too much. It had been about a month since she’d put any sort of effort into her appearance. She cringed into the cloud-like hypoallergenic pillow dreading the wrestling match she was about to have with her curling iron.

__

An hour later, after putting the last touches on her makeup, Chloe felt beautiful and sophisticated. She had never been very concerned about her appearance, always thought she was passably pretty in an ordinary, Midwest farm-girl kind of way, round face, pale skin and eyes that she’s always considered a little too big and far apart. In the third grade, the other kids called her fish face, but she grew into her features. On a normal day, she liked her face despite not being very bothered to do anything with it.

Tonight, though, she’d tamed her hair into soft, sideswept Lauren Bacall-like waves, had drawn a perfect cat eye, and painted her lips crimson red. So she felt _pretty._ Maybe she would even catch the eye of some handsome mysterious Duke who just happened to have a thing for short girls who wobble slightly in heels. _Who knows? I mean, I’d seduce the fuck out of me._ She started raising her eyebrows one at a time, then together and winked at herself in the mirror then immediately worried that the gala had truly stolen any remaining sanity she’d had.

Rapid knocking on the hotel room door snapped her from her daydreaming. She heard a muffled, “Chloe, it’s Holly! Let me in this instant! I’m being leered at.” Chloe padded over to the door tying the sash on the plush hotel robe. As soon as she opened the door, Holly whizzed past her with a huff and something that sounded like _“not a shred of manners”_. Chloe peeked past the threshold to see an older gentleman with salt and pepper hair standing just outside his room grinning from ear to ear. He saluted Chloe and entered his room without a word.

“Men are positively uncivilised. Apes the lot of them,” she heard Holly say as she hung the garment bag in the closet beside the bathroom.

“Agreed,” Chloe replied turning the corner of the small hallway to greet Holly properly and was floored by what she saw. Holly Hillburn was  in a floor length black lace dress, her hair was smooth and soft around her face and, was that makeup? Looking years younger than she had since she had met Holly, Chloe wondered, not for the first time, just how old Holly actually was. It was a question that she and Niall had hotly debated more than once. Chloe settled on somewhere in her sixties, but Niall thought she was a kind witch who would live forever.

“Holly you’re a _babe_!” Chloe shrieked in excitement both by her appearance and the confirmation that she was actually attending. Niall was going to flip. “No wonder that gentleman was staring at you! Who could resist?” She crossed the cramped hallway and gave Holly a gentle hug not wanting to smush either of their hair.

“Well,” Holly huffed, detaching herself from Chloe. She wasn’t usually one for physical displays of affection. Holly moved to unzip the garment bag, “I wouldn’t call that man a gentleman.” She held the dress out to Chloe. “But I did once meet Charlton Heston on holiday, and he told me that I was _elegant_.”

“Wait, seriously?”

“Oh, he was quite the cad.”

“Cad or not, he was right. You’re the very picture of elegance,” Chloe said as she was zipped into the dress. Holly helped her into her shoes then led her over to the mirror. They stood side by side admiring the pretty picture they both made. She ran her hands over the smooth material of the dress admiring the snug way it fit her curves. Chloe wanted to live her life in it. It was red, a true, deep beautiful red with a sweetheart neckline and boning through the bodice that made her waist appear impossibly tiny and the rest of her perfectly proportioned. The bust had a simple lace overlay that fanned just above the dip of the neckline right below the shoulders and formed into sleeves that ended just below the elbows. The wide ballgown skirt had dozens of layers of tulle underneath that rustled softly when she walked and ended mid calf. Chloe didn’t look…well, she didn’t look tall, but for the first time in her life she stood out. Like she was really something to look at, commanding and confident.

“I only had eyes for my Richard, though,” Holly continued, needlessly smoothing Chloe’s dress over the tulle and bending over to fluff up the skirt. “We were on holiday in Paris at this ridiculous party Richard insisted we attend, you know how men are, wanting to rub elbows with the elite and all that nonsense. He disappeared to talk to some photographer or other and when he came back Mr. Heston had me cornered,” she laughed, turning back to the mirror and looked at herself with mirth in her eyes, as though she was staring back at a much younger and in love version of herself, the version that came with a husband who loved her and whom she teased mercilessly.

“He was so angry. I’d never seen him that angry, but he couldn’t complain because he left me alone, you see, and I was _elegant._ ” Chloe wished she could have known Richard, wished she lived in a world where Richard and the boy from the photograph weren’t just ghosts living in Holly’s mind.

“I didn’t think he liked me at first, Richard,” Holly continued moving away to paw through her large bag and produced a bottle of champagne that looked French and expensive. “He was such a womanizer, notorious throughout high London society, you know. Even so, I had such a terrible schoolgirl crush on him. He was older and experienced, and at parties it seemed like he spoke to everyone but me.” She popped the bottle open with ease, grabbed two glasses from the bathroom counter, filled them, and handed one to Chloe.

“At Pearl Eastman’s debut, though, everything changed. Richie drank too much champagne and found me out on the terrace alone and confessed everything to me. Well, slurred everything more like. Apparently, I terrified him and he loved me and very much wanted me to love him back. I was elated, of course, until he lost his dinner all over my new silk shoes.” Chloe snorted on her champagne. “And things just fell into place after that. We were married eight months later.” Holly’s face fell, glow fading just a little and stared down at her glass of champagne. “I didn’t know it could be like that. Love. I married my best friend, it was easy and simple. I mean, after he manned up and got sick on me that is,” she laughed and raised her glass up to Chloe’s.

Holly was standing behind her again, putting stray hairs back into their perfect place and fluffing up the back of the dress.

“I think women tend to have those perfect instincts. I knew from the moment I saw Richard that we were meant to be together. It just took him a while to catch up. _Men._ ”

A moment passed, Holly’s eyes distant, remembering the past.  

“Thank you again, so much Holly, for the dress. I don’t know how to thank you,” Chloe said, voice clouding with emotion but Holly just gently shushed her.

“Don’t be silly, and _don’t_ ruin your makeup.”

But Chloe wasn’t just thanking her for the dress, she supposed. It was more than that. She’d never attended her own Prom or Homecoming. After her mom died, most things seemed trivial and pointless. Chloe hadn’t wanted to go shopping for a dress without her mother’s voice fawning over how beautiful she looked. She didn’t want to teach herself how to put on makeup. She needed her mother’s tricks for taming the hair Chloe had inherited from her. When it came to school dances, she just wanted her mom embarrassing her by taking too many pictures and telling her to be smart and safe. She ached for it. Having Holly fuss over her like this was new and so, so wonderful.

The truth was that Holly sometimes, in flashes, reminded her of her mother’s frantic changing moods and dry sense of humor. Holly who was digging back in her purse and producing a simple silver bracelet and fastening it onto Chloe’s wrist. Chloe’s eyes watered anew.

“Enough of that,” Holly admonished, “To your success!” She raised her glass and clinked it with Chloe’s.

“Don’t speak too soon. I’m half expecting Lady Charlotte Prismore to eat me alive before the end of the night.”

“You leave her to me, darling. I have dirt enough on that old cow to have her singing your praises before night’s end.” They both giggled into their glasses before downing the rest of their drinks in one gulp. Together they clasped hands and marched through the door to face the gala.

___

“Where’s Niall?” Harry asked. They were standing in the ballroom entryway under the hanging flowers and lights that Harry, upon arriving, was delighted to find looked like a fairy garden. Harry was rocking back and forth on his feet, hands behind his back, staring at Chloe in his rock star tux, having foregone a bow tie for a silk patterned scarf hanging from his neck. The bastard. As good as Chloe felt, she’d never be as pretty as Harry Styles.

“He should be here any second,” Chloe answered with confidence even though she’d been staring at the door for the past fifteen minutes willing Niall to appear. It’s not that she thought he wouldn’t come. It was more like she still couldn’t believe he’d wanted to be her date in the first place. The whole night felt too good to be true. Like invisible electricity crackled in the air. Like something transformative was going to occur. She blamed it on the dress. Also, the champagne. But that didn’t change the fact that Gala’s contained three of Niall’s least favorite things: formalwear, high society, and food that wasn’t fried. Maybe he was delaying the torturous evening by arriving at the last possible minute.

So yes, a tiny part of her was worried he’d come late, leave early, and be bored stiff. Or worse: that his phone would buzz and he’d fuck off to, well, fuck.

“Where’s Paula?” Chloe shot back.

“She’s coming in through the back. She knows the manager of the hotel and wanted to say hi and didn’t want to bother with the crowd outside.” Of course she did and of course she was. Paula seemed to know everyone worth knowing. Louis had once hinted she had noble bloodlines but was spending time in London supporting herself bouncing from odd job to odd job just to see if she could.

Chloe was watching a young couple bicker at the coat check when she felt Harry urgently poking at her ribs. Niall had just walked through the doors and before heading up the stairs, he stopped for a moment to admire the ceiling. Chloe took the moment to admire him. Who knew that holes in his jeans, stained tee shirt, snapback-wearing Niall Horan could wear the hell out of a tux. He looked good: taller, handsome, and a little older and more mature, in the best way. His hair was perfectly styled into a quiff, like she’d done after dying it, but it also looked like he’d sprung for a haircut. Like he cared enough about the evening he was willing to pay more money (something Niall hated doing) for it. He looked classic, but still cool. She couldn’t even find it in her to make fun of the bow tie. It was Niall. But a Niall who had tried. For her.

Niall started up the stairs gracefully, for maybe the first time in his life, like the tux was making him careful. When his eyes finally found Chloe he stopped, foot suspended over the next step mouth open and eyes wide. After a beat he flushed and grinned dopily at her and she beamed back and waved a shy hello. He went to finish his step up but missed, slipping and falling directly on his bad knee.

“Oh my god, Niall,” she said rushing over as quickly as her heels let her. He grabbed her open hand and hauled himself up to hug her.

“Not as smooth as I planned,” he laughed in her ear quietly. Wanting to make sure he was okay she tried to pull back but Niall seemed determined not to let her out of his arms just yet so he held her flush against him from knees to cheek. She thought then, with her nose pressed into the skin just behind his ear, that she could spend the whole night like that, easy. Easy like breathing.

“I think the way you look in that tux negates any embarrassing blunders,” she whispered to him. The way he was holding her was intimate, even for them, one hand on the small of her back keeping her steady, the other cupping the back of her bare neck. The erratic breathing next to her ear made him sound like he couldn’t catch his breath, like he’d run the whole way there.  “There’s also a sixty five percent chance that I’m falling later in these shoes, so you’re in good company.”

“What kind of date would I be if I let you fall?” Niall whispered in her ear, breath tickling. Chloe, feeling giddy from being held had no response, so she just shrugged her shoulders. Head growing cloudy, she gently disengaged herself from his grip before she fucked it all up and confessed her love to him or kissed him till she couldn’t breathe and passed out while technically on the job. Seeming reluctant to let her go he slid his hand from her waist to grab her hand and stepped back to look at her properly.

“Jesus, you look beautiful,” he said, not a moment of hesitation. She immediately flushed and yanked her hand out of his, his smile falling just a fraction. He was saying the most lovely things, and it was just a little too much all at once.

“Thanks,” she choked out turning almost as red as her dress. “Um, we’re kind of in the way,” she indicated gesturing at people passing by them on the stairs.

“Right,” he replied, getting a firm reassuring grip on her elbow gently leading her away from the people who were clumped around the entrance to the ballroom and directed her around the corner. “Wanted to give you something anyway.” He stopped once they were relatively alone and fumbled around inside his jacket, smiling nervously at her, tight lipped and flushed.

“Niall, I swear to god if you’re hiding food in there-” but her voice caught in her throat when he produced a silver chain from his inside jacket pocket. He held it up as it swung back and forth in front of his triumphant face.

“Was at Holly’s this morning, and she mentioned you might need some jewelry for tonight,” he explained as he slid behind her to loop the necklace around her bare neck. She reflexively touched the cold metal with her fingertips as it rested on her chest. “That’s why I was a little late. Took a bit to pick out the right one, and by the time I found this one I had to rush home to change.” There was a mirror by the elevator in the hallway and Chloe moved closer so she could inspect the necklace. It was small, delicate, and beautiful. A simple, thick antique looking silver bar connecting the chain, resting just below her collarbones. She could tell it wasn’t very expensive, probably from Camden or someplace similar but no man had ever bought her a piece of jewelry that she would have actually picked out for herself before now. Running her finger back and forth over the bar, warming it with her skin, she thought she might never take it off.

“Do you not like it?” Niall asked from behind as he rested his hand on her bare shoulder, searing hot.

She shook her head yes. “I love it. I love it. Thank you so much.” The words rushed out of her as she spun around to catch Niall in their second hug in ten minutes. It was so enthusiastic that she’d pushed him several steps back. She could feel him smile into the sensitive skin of her neck, could feel his erratic heartbeat through his shirt. After a beat of comfortable silence Chloe realized that she had a job to do and couldn’t just stand here embracing all over the lobby even if it was with the boy she loves.

_The boy she loves._

_Oh God._

Tears immediately filled her eyes and threatened to spill over. The realization crashed over her like a tidal wave, and she clung to him tighter for a moment. She’d probably loved him for quite some time now, God only knows for how long, but it was the first time she’d admitted it to herself.

“Should we go in?” Niall asked hesitation seeping through. He had felt her tense up and was rubbing soothing circles on her upper back. They were anything but soothing though, because they lit her skin up like fire and set her on edge like if she stopped touching him she’d float off the ground and hit the ceiling. “Chloe are you okay?” he grabbed her shoulders trying to draw her back.

“M’fine,” she replied, “just had such a stressful day. I’m.. thanks… I’m glad you’re here is all.”

“I’m your hero,” he teased.

“Easy, Enrique.”

“Would you dance? If I asked you to dance?” he began to sing at her, doing his best at a face of pure, Latin seduction.

“Oh my god,” Chloe tried half-heartedly to shush him through her giggles.

“I can be your hero, babAY!” he sang out just loud enough to garner a few stares.

She slapped a hand over his mouth as she laughed out, “You have to stop. Please. I can’t take it, and I have to work.”

He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively over her hand, but didn’t sing any more in his uncanny Enrique Iglesias voice after she lowered her hand.

_Fuck._ She definitely was in love with this idiot.

Then another very pressing question popped up. “Wait you were hanging out with Holly and Humphrey without me?” Chloe  asked incredulous.

“Heck yeah! Who do you think talked her into coming tonight?” Chloe barked out a laugh.

Lacing his fingers through hers, he led her back through the hall and towards the open doors of the ballroom, and her anxiety melted away. It was nice to give up the control she’d clung to the past couple of weeks just a fraction. Chloe knew that even if Lady Charlotte Prissypants stood on a table and publicly cursed her name, if Niall was there holding her hand, she’d be fine.

___

Appetizers, special guest speakers, and the silent auction flew by without a hitch, followed by food that guests couldn’t stop raving about, unless you counted Niall who had poked at his beef tar tar like it had personally offended him. She’d done it; she’d thrown together a successful night, barring something terrible happening during dessert and dancing. Overall the event raised over 500,000 pounds and was their most successful gala to date.

“Niall, honestly. I know the chef, and he wouldn’t poison your food,” Paula said, exasperated that Niall refused even to try his meal.

“He’s not much into fine dining, Paula. I wouldn’t take it too personally,” Harry said placing a kiss on her temple.

“Seriously, Chloe? With the wine and the raw beef are you tryin ta kill me?” he finally huffed. “I mean, well done, and all that, but I’m hungry,” Niall grumped and folded his arms across his chest like a toddler.

“The full bar will open in twenty minutes and I’ll buy you McDonald’s after, ok?”  she soothed. Her good mood was so untouchable that Niall’s minifit was more amusing than frustrating.

“You’re the best! I love you!” he sang out as he leaned his head against her shoulder. Chloe flushed and reached for more Cabernet. _Wine, yes. You old chum. You old so-and-so._ She’d probably had too much, but she wasn’t about to deal with the fact that she loved Niall Horan and that required some help.

Looking up wanting to exchange another shared look of triumph, she saw Harry looking at Niall with a stormy expression, his usual open smile replaced with something Chloe couldn’t quite place.

“Chloe,” Sarah called out from a few feet away. “Can you show the staff where you want the chocolate fountain? Apparently the first five times wasn’t enough,” Chloe nodded once at her and shoved Niall playfully off her shoulder.

“Hear that Niall? Sugar!” she shot out over her shoulder and disappeared through the side door.

____

Chloe had taken the back way out of the kitchen and was a little lost which was slightly embarrassing considering that she’d made her rounds of the entire floor all day. She was weaving around back rooms trying to follow the quiet sounds of the gala attendees and was about to round a corner she was sure she’d passed already when she heard heated discussion between familiar voices.

“–sure, because if you’re not sure you could lose a lot.–” Harry’s voice was higher, louder and faster than she had ever heard it before.

“You think I don’t know that? Do you think I don’t know that once I do this it could all blow up in my face?” and that was Niall, his thick Irish accent out in full force like it always was after a night of drinking. “I have to try, though, don’t I? I feel like I’m going out of my mind!”

“I understand that but if you hurt–” a loud crash from the kitchen blocked out the argument for a second “-I mean it. I know how you are.” Harry finished voice firm and resolved.

“I wouldn’t. I won’t,” Niall threw back just as strong. “Would it mean anything if I told you this time is different?”

“Yes, but I’m just saying, if things go poorly…if it doesn’t work out you know who’s side I have to take. I won’t be around anymore.”

“It won’t-”

“But if it does-”

“I won’t let it. Is it too dramatic to say it’s the only thing I care about right now? Why would I screw that up?” Niall said sounding earnest, determined. Harry didn’t reply.

Chloe was confused by Harry’s behavior because she was pretty sure she knew what Niall was upset about. Two days ago, an old coworker and friend of Niall’s, Ed, had asked him to start playing gigs with him full time. A demo they’d recorded months ago had finally received recognition from some big time music producers who wanted Ed to start touring with a proper band around the country and selected parts of Europe. It was a huge decision because if Niall quit, he’d be even more financially unstable than he already is. If it didn’t work out he might have to move home. Home to Ireland home.  Chloe was trying to be as supportive as possible, they all were, even if the idea of Niall leaving on tour for six plus months broke her heart.

So what Chloe didn’t understand was why Harry was so emotionally invested, they might have made fast friends, but she didn’t realize Harry cared that deeply, deeply enough to be angry if he left. It was unjustified and the opposite of what Niall needed right now.

“I’m just saying, Niall: you screw it up and you will lose a lot more than you realize.” Chloe was pissed now. The last thing Niall needed was people giving him friendship ultimatums in regards to his career choices. Plus it was entirely un-Harry. She backed up a few paces knowing she’d have to make her sudden appearance breezy and light like she hadn’t just been eavesdropping.

“Harry is that you? I’m lost back here help!” she called out playfully and rounded the corner. Niall was actually sitting on the ground, back to a wall and Harry loomed over him in what Chloe imagined was meant to be an intimidating pose, but instead came off as awkward and coltish with his pigeon toes and his entire body’s back and forth sway. His face was softer than his voice had been and Chloe tried to stamp out her resentment of Harry’s words to Niall fighting the urge to stand between them and physically block Niall from any further negativity.

“I don’t know what you two divas are doing back here but I need a drink and a dance.” Extending her hand down to Niall, he took it gratefully and the three of them walked back towards the noisy ballroom in a tense silence. Threading her fingers through Niall’s she squeezed his hand gently and his usual smile returned full force to his face. Chloe made a mental note to chastise Harry later. Not now though. Not tonight. _Just let me have tonight._

___

The creme brulee cracked perfectly as Chloe buried her spoon into its sugary goodness, and the wine she was drinking made her fuzzy around the edges. She was beaming a smile out towards the dance floor as she watched Niall and Holly dancing. He had whisked Holly off with a wink back to Chloe and a promise that she’d have next dance. He had promised Holly the first dance in exchange for her attendance and was throwing her around wildly, mouth in a wide grin while he thrashed around. They looked out of place compared to the docile, polite couples littering the dance floor and were bumping into anyone who came within a five foot radius of them. Laughter was peeling continuously from Holly as she was whipped around and Chloe gave herself another mental pat on the back for a job well done.

“A little bird told me that you’re responsible this event. Chloe, right?” in her reverent self indulgence she’d failed to notice the tall figure that had approached her, his arm outstretched for a handshake. He looked to be in his late twenties a smile wide on his tan skin, sparkle in his dark eyes.

“I. Yes? That’s not a question. Yes, I’m Chloe,” she straightened immediately, making to stand up, but instead the stranger gestured toward the chair adjacent hers and moved to sit in Niall’s spot.

“Mind if I sit?” Chloe heard the American drawl to his voice, sounding so familiar she felt a pang of homesickness.

“Of course,” she answered. “I’m so sorry. I’m not sure I know who you are. I’m probably supposed to know who you are.”

“I’m Sam. We’ve actually spoken before. I called you last week about project development for The-”

“The Clean Water Project! Yes, Sam! It’s lovely to meet you in person,” she gushed. They had actually had a fairly pleasant, borderline flirtatious phone conversation two weeks ago. Sam was the head of project development at The Clean Water Project and had called Harry for some friendly networking. Chloe answered his phone as Harry was out for the day and upon discovering they were both Americans, they bonded over their mutual pining for some good old fashioned American bar food and American Football.

“I’m going to be honest with you, Chloe,” he said leaning toward her just a fraction. God he’s handsome. “I thought you’d be taller,” he finished. Chloe pinched her mouth together in mock anger and flushed.

“You should see me without the heels. I’m practically a hobbit.”  

“You don’t say,” he quipped back, leaning a bit closer to rest his head on his fist.

“It’s the unfortunate truth.” They smiled at each other for a moment both very aware they were flirting shamelessly, faces a little too close together to be considered professionally appropriate.

“I did come over here for a reason. Well, two actually,” he said after a moment of prolonged eye contact.

“Is that so?” Chloe asked.

“Yes, one to congratulate you on the least boring gala I’ve ever attended.”

“Well, thank you so much,” she replied sarcastically.

“Don’t worry about it. And two, I wanted to ask you if you wanted to try out this new American bar with me sometime. Since we talked, I’ve been so homesick for it I can barely eat anything else. I figured only a true connoisseur of french fries should accompany me.” Chloe reflexively darted her eyes back towards the dance floor and found Niall’s eyes immediately. He was still dancing with Holly, the music having changed to something slower, and was swaying her slowly from side to side eyes piercing back into hers over Holly’s head, his expression unreadable.

“That is,” Sam continued, having followed her eye line to glance at the dance floor, “If you’re free to get dinner sometime.” He looked back at her, eyes eager but understanding.

Chloe paused. She was free. That was the problem. She was free as a bird, and she hated it. Part of her brain was screaming at her that she should be glad she’s free to accept dinner offers for fried food with tall, dark, handsome, and professionally successful men.

“I,” she hesitated because she was single, yet it still felt like a betrayal when her eyes were locked with Niall’s from across the room. “I don’t know.”

He smiled, reached into his pocket, and pulled out a card placing it in her palm. “If you ever do find yourself freed up, give me a call. Congratulations again.” He left after he squeezed her hand lightly brushing his thumb lightly over her palm as he pulled his hand back, a slight fluttering in her stomach erupting, and walked away, disappearing in a crowd of people by the bar.

Chloe spent a couple of long minutes staring into her palm, brows furrowed and feeling more than a little pathetic and slightly disappointed in herself. When did she become this love sick puppy clinging onto dead end desires, addicted to another person like a drug? Quickly stashing the card in her clutch and blinking rapidly, she downed the rest of her wine in one gulp and stood to get another when she felt a hand on her back steadying her.

“Niall, hey! How was your dance with-” he cut her off by tugging her out of her seat and towards the dance floor with urgency. She wobbled a little trying to keep up, which Niall seemed to sense and placed his hand on her waist to lead her the rest of the way darting around chairs and people effortlessly. If it were anyone else, she would have found it patronising and more than a little annoying, but this was Niall and she melted into his touch.

When they reached the center of the dance floor, he pulled her tight into his body, one hand on the small of her waist, the other clutching her hand to his chest so it rested between their two bodies over his heart. Chloe brought her other hand up to the back of his neck, fingers brushing the short cropped hair at his nape. She felt a pleasant pressure next to her cheek as he pressed the side of his face into hers and could feel his breath coming out in rapid huffs tickling lightly at her ear.

He began to sway them side to side in fluid, rhythmic movements like waves rolling on a beach, like a heartbeat. She took a deep breath to calm herself, but all she could smell was Niall, all cologne and sweat and something deeper and earthy, like the warm afternoons they’d spend in the park and the balmy summer nights drinking on her porch. Like home. Like Niall.

Chloe registered somewhere in the back of her mind that she was letting her guard down, that each moment that passed in Niall’s arms the wall she’d built around her heart was slowly crumbling, brick by brick and if she wasn’t careful he’d pull back, take one look at her and know. He would know, and they would fracture irreparably. So she knew she should pull back, or make a joke, but for the first time in weeks she felt calm and at ease. She felt everything, the pull of the music, the smooth skin of Niall’s cheek, the crisp starch in his shirt against her hand and his heartbeat underneath. This was what dancing should be, she thought. Perhaps before this moment she’d never been properly danced with, or maybe it’s just that she’d never shared the floor with anyone she’d been in love with before.

Chloe wondered if when the dance was over, there would be permanent marks on her body from where he held her.

Niall pulled back a bit after an unidentifiable amount of time and rested his forehead against hers. They breathed in each other’s air while he thumbed at her necklace.

“You really like it?” he asked gruffly. “You’re not just wearing it to be nice?”

“I love it,” she answered without hesitation.

“Chloe,” he took a deep breath and let it out, almost shaking, “I have-”

“Chloe we have to facilitate teardown,” Sarah had appeared, looking apologetic.

“Teardown?” It can’t be time for teardown she thought, but looking around she saw the ballroom was nearly empty. The harsher, brighter lights had been turned back on, and the staff was tearing down the tables. There wasn’t even music playing anymore. Reluctantly she disengaged herself from Niall. She went to walk away but he kept a gentle grip on her wrist, seemingly unwilling to let her go. When she turned back around to look at him he looked lost.

“Niall!” Paula called from across the room waving him over. He shook his head slightly at her looking back at Chloe desperately.

“Go ahead. I’ll catch up,” Chloe said slowly, pulling her wrist away gently. He nodded once, and shuffled away wordlessly, shoulders tense.

_____

Half an hour later, Chloe and Niall were sitting on the roof of the hotel together playing lazy thumb wars, neither of them really trying to win. Harry and Paula were dancing and singing Elton John twenty feet away and giggling like fairies, both sloppy drunk and impossibly beautiful. All four of them had nicked bottles of pricey, leftover wine and were sipping directly from them feeling young and drunk and invincible and wild.

Chloe felt powerful and permanent. Looking over the city, lights hazy through a light fog, breeze cooling her warm cheeks, she felt like she belonged here, could almost imagine that they ruled London from the rooftops. If the stars were still out, she’d wish on every single one of them for the night to never end. They could stay there together in a cloudy, less complicated version of life. She could live in this moment, permanently bundled up in the rented jacket of the boy she loved who was looking at her in adoration, red cheeked and smiling without reservation.

A boy who was looking at her like she was the only thing that mattered, the only thing that existed. She knew, if she could just freeze time she could sustain herself on that thought alone.

She was really very drunk.

“Tell me something I don’t know about you,” Niall demanded swigging once more from his bottle and laying back propped up on one elbow.

_Sometimes when I can’t sleep, I put on the sweater you lent me so I feel comfortable and safe again, and I’m out like a light._

_When we go on our drives I sometimes wish you would just keep driving and driving. We’d run away together and never come back._

_I’m in love with you._

_I love you._

“Growing up there was this deep quarry walking distance from my house, and in the sweltering summer heat all the kids in the neighborhood would go swimming there except me,” she confessed.

“Why wouldn’t you go swimming? Could you not swim, Blondie?” he asked.

“Oh, I could swim. No, it was because my mom told me that the quarry was made by an angry giant’s footprint years before, a giant that was going to return one day to reclaim his home.” Niall began cackling. She kicked at his leg. “I’m serious! It terrified me! Whenever we had thunderstorms I would jolt awake in the middle of the night thinking the thunder was the giant back to exact his terrible revenge. I wouldn’t go swimming because I was convinced the quarry was the first place he’d look for unsuspecting victims,” she started laughing too.

“So when d’ya actually go in?” he asked eyes sparkling.

“Not till I was sixteen-”

“Oh my GOD!” he fell back all the way emitting full bellied laughter.

“You’re never going to let me live this down are you?” she said lightly thumping his leg with her foot again.

“NO!” he forced out. “SIXTEEN? You believed in giants till you were sixteen?” he teased a pointed finger at her, a fresh wave of laughter pealing out.

“I didn’t _believe_ per se, I just didn’t want to tempt fate. It felt like hubris,” she defended uselessly. The giggled together for several moments longer, each taking a few more sips of their wine. Niall’s was starting to turn his mouth a bruised purple.

“What about you?” she asked nudging at him with her foot. “Tell me something I don’t know about you.” Niall stopped laughing and huffed out a breath bringing his hands behind his head staring straight up at the cloudy sky.

“I don’t miss home. At all,” he said seriously. “I know I should, I just don’t. I miss my dad and my brother but I don’t miss Mullingar. I never go back to visit, and it makes me feel like I’m, I don’t know, a bad person? A bad Irishman for sure. You talk about missing your home all the time. I just, I don’t have great memories from growin’ up and sometimes I don’t ever want to go back.” He closed his eyes tightly like he was afraid of the look he would find on her face.

“Why?” Chloe asked tentatively.  

“Some other time. Don’t want to spoil the night,” he grinned again, sour mood gone as soon as it came, and sat up. “It’s damp; we should go inside.” He tugged lightly on a rogue curl that had escaped from her bobby pins then grabbed her hands hauling her to her feet with him. She noticed that Harry and Paula had disappeared leaving behind empty bottles of wine. She sighed heading over to pick them up, the hotel would know it was them, the wine was donated specifically for the event.

Niall walked over and picked them up without being asked, and they walked down the stairs together.

Oh well. The night had to end sometime.

___

They were standing outside Chloe’s hotel room. She had the door propped open slightly, and Niall was looking at her, hands in his pockets and shoulders tense. Neither of them had spoken for the last minute. She’d spent enough time around Niall by now to know his many expressions and the moods that accompanied them, but she’d never seen him this way before. If she didn’t know better, she’d say he was nervous.

“You can stay the night if you want,” Chloe said. It’s not like they hadn’t slept in the same place before. Still, it felt different. Judging by the look on Niall’s face he felt it too, like it would be crossing a line.

“Nah, got stuff in the morning,” he mumbled. Niall never had stuff in the morning.

“Thanks again, Niall, so much. Having you here was just… it made things easier. You make things easier… and with Holly and the necklace. Just, thanks.”

Niall was staring just over her head at the gold letters on the door behind her. His lips were tight and nostrils flared. “Sure, yeah,” Niall shot back. He seemed upset suddenly, but she couldn’t tell if it was her fault or not.

“Oh, your jacket,” she remembered, slipping it from her shoulders handing it back to him.

“Thanks.”

“Night,” she hugged him, but he barely hugged her back, only offering up one arm and almost seem to push her away after.  

Throwing him one last half smile, she turned around and pushed clumsily into her hotel room not waiting for him to say goodnight back. Chloe took a couple of steps into the hallway of the room not bothering to turn on the light and listened for the click of the door.

It didn’t come.

Niall was standing behind her holding the door open. She could feel his eyes on her back rooting her feet to her spot. The light from the hallway was flooding into the dark room and past her feet. Her breathing picked up as each second passed, the back of her neck burning, the oppressive weight of his eyes was suffocating but she was still unable to do anything but stare straight ahead through the thin white curtains, fixing on the fuzzy lights of London.

The moments crept passed, it could have been hours for all she knew. Chloe’s breathing became more audible, more rapid and less controlled. The air thickened, and she felt hot and scared and like she was going to break in half. The air in the room felt like a concert hall before a symphony started playing, the conductor’s baton at the ready all eyes on him waiting for him to throw his arm into motion.

Then the door clicked shut.

And then Niall was all over her. All around her. A warm steady heat enveloping her from behind. When his forehead nuzzled into the bare skin in between her shoulders, she gasped feeling his hot breath fanning down her back, his hands coming under her arms wrapping up over her shoulders tightly and possessively holding her in place. He began mouthing at her back, pressing open lipped kisses in between her shoulders and neck leaving a damp trail across her back. She noticed between the static buzzing in her brain that she was shivering. But the blood in her veins felt like wildfire. It was too much and not enough, and when he brought his hand up to cup gently but firmly at her neck thumbing over her jaw and throat, she threw her head back on his shoulder bringing her hand up over his to steady herself. He leaned down and kissed the side of her neck and she turned her head to press her face into his.

When he bit down at the side of her neck, she snapped out of her daze.

“Niall?” she gasped out her voice sounding far away and small in her own ears.

“I can’t. Please let me. I can’t not. Please just a kiss. I just want to kiss you. Please.” He backed off a bit but didn’t let her go, forehead resting against her temple.

“Yes. God,” she pleaded thinking she might die if he didn’t. Not waiting a moment longer he spun her around and pushed her against the wall, driving the air from her lungs. He stared at her just like that for a moment. His blue, blue eyes burning like fire even in the dark. Just when she thought she couldn’t wait a second more with him just staring at her like that. Like she was the most incredible thing he’d ever heard of, ever seen, he pressed his mouth against hers.

It was messy at first, both of them too frantic to establish a proper rhythm, but then Niall took over dominating the kiss, opening her mouth with his tongue. Chloe couldn’t remember the last time she’d been kissed like this, if she’d _ever_ been kissed like this. Niall was pressing into her skin with his hands, like he was trying to memorize the angles and curves of her body: neck, wrists, waist, collarbone. For all that he was needy with his hands, he was gentle with his mouth.

He pulled back a fraction after a time, allowing them to both catch their breath which was difficult to do so close. They breathed in each other’s warm, sweet breath tasting like sugar and wine, and if she wasn’t intoxicated before, she was now.

“Jesus,” he moaned into her mouth, “I want you so bad.” Chloe didn’t have time to process his words before he bent down and hooked one hand under her right knee wrapping her leg around his waist and pressed against her, unrelenting and hard causing them both to cry out. She whimpered into his mouth as he continued to grind into her, while tracing the curves on her face with his free hand. He was filthy and gentle, sweet and dominating. Feeling hot, bold, and too restricted in her dress Chloe thrust her hand down between them and traced over the front of him relishing in the sounds he made into her neck.

Niall grabbed her wrist back just as fast and spun her around placing both her hands open palmed against the wall and began unzipping her dress and helping her step out of it. His rapid changes from domineering to sweet made her head spin, and she tripped over the material pooled on the floor into him. He absorbed the impact with a grunt and a laugh backing her towards the bed and pushed her gently back onto it when her knees hit the side of the mattress. She backed away from him on her elbows up onto the pillows at the head of the mattress watching him undress through hooded eyes taking him in. He made quick, unsexy work of his tux, and she knew he was as desperate as she was.

He threw his socks over his shoulders one at a time, and she laughed as he crawled up the bed towards her in only his black briefs and a crooked smirk painted on his face. He rested on his knees at her parted feet and grabbed her ankles  where he pressed soft circles into the delicate bones there. Then he clutched them hard yanking her down the bed, spreading her legs wide as he settled her under him. Her lower thighs rested upon his knees as he ran his hands up and down her smooth legs eyes darting from her face to her breasts to the lace of her underwear drinking the sight of her in.

“You have no fucking idea how badly I’ve wanted this,” he told her as he leaned over bracing one hand next to her head on the bed capturing her mouth in another long and heated kiss. Chloe jolted when she felt one of his hands come to cup at her clothed breast, squeezing and kneading the skin there till she broke away from the kiss throwing her head back and clutching onto his bare shoulders digging her nails in.

“More,” she breathed out and before the word had fully left her mouth he brought his free hand up and pulled her bra down exposing her to the cold air of the room, nipples hard and sensitive. He kissed her temple, her lips, then down her neck in an uneven trail and then finally latched onto her right nipple kissing and teasing with his tongue. She could feel a heat pooling in her belly just under her navel and, God, it had never been this good and he’d barely even touched her yet. He readjusted above her and before she could register what he was doing she felt his hand press over her underwear right where she needed him.

“Ni,” she said completely unprepared.  

“Yeah? You okay?” he asked detaching from her chest and looking at her face worried expression on his features. She nodded rapidly.

“I just-” but she stopped talking when he slipped his hand into her underwear running his fingers over her twice and then slipped two inside her. Taken so off guard by it she half moaned, half laughed.

“Yeah?” he smirked this time, eyes not leaving her face, readjusting himself so he was on his knees, free hand cupping her face and began to thrust his fingers in and out slowly.

“Fuck,” she breathed and turned her head to the side rapidly. She was close already.

“No. Look at me,” he pleaded yanking her hair a bit and she opened her eyes again to find his, now unable to look away mouth opening in a silent moan. He sped up and his pace was unrelenting and fast. He pressed his palm against her as he moved his fingers expertly.

“Close,” she whimpered out and her thighs began to close around his hands so he moved once again pinning her open legs to the bed with his knees.

“Come on. Let go,” he commanded speeding up his hand and pressing in harder against her and just like that she was pushed over the precipice, a white hot explosion erupting under her skin and she heard distant shouting and realized after a second that it was hers and could tell Niall was talking her through it but couldn’t understand what he was saying because her heartbeat was thumping too loudly in her ears.

He kissed her again before getting off the bed abruptly causing needy whines to leave her mouth, but he was back on her in a second  kissing her senseless, hand hooking around her underwear and pulling them off. Before he could do anything else, she smirked up at him before running her hand over his chest and dipping her hand into his briefs to hold him in her hand, already so hard. He made a breathless sound as she pushed him back and pulled his briefs off.

Chloe laid him on his back and kissed down his chest, taking her time relishing the breathless pants of his stomach under her mouth. She teased him for a couple of minutes running her hands on his thighs, gently scratching the sensitive skin below his navel. It was only when he huffed out an indignant _come on_ that she finally took him in her mouth proud of the sounds he made as she did. His hands unclenched from the bedsheets and came up to rest gently in her hair, petting at her curls as she worked on pushing him to the edge. She took the time to appreciate how he tasted, salty and musky, and how his skin felt under her fingers, smooth but textured with soft hair. The power and control she felt as he came undone beneath her was like a drug and she felt drunk on their shared desire. He began to breathe her name over and over again in a chant and it wasn’t long before he tugged at her hair, enough that she pulled off completely to give him a questioning look.

“Don’t wanna come. Not yet,” he slurred. Niall pushed himself up off the bed once more and ruffled through his pant pockets on the floor. Chloe lay back on the bed, eyes closed, spinning and floaty.

When she heard the familiar sound of a condom wrapper tearing, her eyes flew open.

She was going to have sex. _She was going to have sex with Niall_ , her best friend. Niall who doesn’t do relationships. Niall who doesn’t think of her that way. Niall who’s drunk and not thinking straight. Her post orgasm haze lifted in a second as she came back to her senses.

He quickly settled back next to her on the bed brushing his hands over her body like a paintbrush on canvas.

“Niall, wait,” she whispered.

“What’s wrong?” he said dropping the half open condom wrapper from his mouth as the ghost of his touch over her navel stopped.

“We can’t,” she breathed out staring up at him from her back, screaming at herself for stopping him when he was looking at her like that. He was so beautiful, pink lipped and flushed, more open and exposed than she had ever seen him. His hair was ruffled and his blue eyes were wide and glassy and she just couldn’t. She absolutely couldn’t lose him.

“I think we already are,” he grinned down at her going in for another kiss but she pushed him off by his shoulders and the smile melted off his face quickly replaced by confusion and hurt.

“We’re drunk. We’re not thinking straight,” she soothed reaching back out to touch his shoulder. He pushed her hand off as soon as she made contact and stood up from the bed distancing himself from her a couple of feet. It felt like a mile.

“It will ruin everything,” she blazed on suddenly very aware of how naked she was. “I can’t lose you, you know?” she needed him to see, to understand. Just the thought of him not being there sent a wave of nausea rolling through her stomach. “And, well, you do this. We’re drunk and I’m here and you do this, you know?”

“Right,” he stated coldly. “No, you’re right, Blondie. That’s me; can’t keep in it my pants if I tried,” he let out a bitter laugh and started dressing himself, back facing her, shoulders tense and movements violent like he wanted the clothes to feel his anger.

Turning back to face her buttoning up his shirt, his lips were pressed into a thin white line, eyes looking cold and distant. She could already feel the tears prickling in her eyes threatening to spill over. Picking his shoes up off the ground and holding them in his hand he looked in her direction, but avoided her eyes and it hurt more than it had any right to. Like she was just another girl to run out on. Like they weren’t each other’s lifelines.

“Well,” he paused like he wanted her to say something. “See you tomorrow then,” he said and stormed out of the room. As he left, Chloe registered his movements in slow motion and she saw it all play out in those few seconds before the door shut. She saw how the weight of what they’d done would seep into the foundations of their friendship rendering it faulty and useless. How they’d stop sharing her couch when they couldn’t sleep and their easy, familiar banter would strain, like a rubber band stretched too tight. They would become casual acquaintances who occasionally saw each other at a party or the pub, and she felt the soul crushing devastation of his loss before the door even closed. As his angry figure disappeared through its bright exit, it took everything in her to not chase after him, naked and sobbing, into the hall.

There used to be a vase on her parent’s mantel. It had been her grandmother’s. It wasn’t much to look at, simple, teal with faded pink roses painted on it’s body, but her mother loved it sentimentally.  It reminded her of her mom. When Chloe was thirteen, she was dusting the mantel and straining on her tippy toes to reach the back when she slipped and knocked the vase over. It broke into several large pieces on the brick fireplace below. She’d spend the whole night gluing it back together to perfection before her mother could see what she’d done, and when she was finished, you couldn’t tell anything had ever happened. It looked perfectly put back together, so she slipped it back in its place feeling clever and sneaky.

Waking up the next day, she padded downstairs for breakfast and found her mother in front of the mantel staring at the vase. The early morning sun had broken through the windows and had exposed the large, obvious cracks on its wide body. Chloe hadn’t seen them in the darkness of the night before, but the morning light made it look like it was seconds from disintegrating onto itself, like if you touched the vase it would collapse. Chloe wondered if that’s how Niall and her friendship would look tomorrow morning; fractured, cracked, broken under the cover of night unable to withstand the bright glare of the next day.

She didn’t even bother washing her face or changing into her pajamas. Instead she just crawled under the sheets, shivering and achy. Chloe curled into a tight ball and hugged her knees into her chest as she tried to chase away the thought that she’d just ruined the best thing in her life.

Without Niall’s warmth, she found it impossible to sleep. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't hate me. Comments and kudos are always welcome and appreciated. Thanks for reading.


	5. Chapter 5

Chloe had been immobile in bed since she woke up. If opening her eyes from a restless night of tossing and turning could be classified as waking up. Early that morning, she’d given up on falling asleep and settled on her back, eyes wide open and staring at the ceiling replaying the previous night's events on a loop in her head. She was in the most comfortable bed she’d ever slept in feeling the most miserable she had in recent memory and burrowing under the covers and never emerging sounded like the world’s perfect plan. Last night’s golden haze was ripped away and the sun had risen throwing the edges of the room into harsh angles and blinding clarity.

She’d fucked up; she’d fucked everything up, and the thought of facing her friends, the thought of facing _Niall,_ was more than she could handle in her hungover condition.

At some point her phone started clattering on the nightstand.  She half hoped it was Niall texting her something inconsequential and stupid like he usually did first thing in the morning. Chloe loved the way he said good morning with an update of what he was eating for breakfast, a picture of his ratty guitar or, once, with a video of pigeons (because he knew how much she hated them). If he texted her today like every other morning, it might mean that all was forgiven, all could go back to the way it was. That she hadn’t lost the friendship that held her together at the seams.

The thought of losing him made her stomach churn.

She wished she’d never kissed him, wished she didn’t know what he felt like or how he tasted. She’d give that memory back if it meant nothing would change.  

Moaning in protest, she grabbed her phone, and her heart dropped when she saw it was Louis.

_Louis the sun king:_ hey niall w/u?

_Louis the sun king_ : r u awake?

_Louis the sun king:_ do u know where ni is?

_Louis the sun king:_ WAKE UP.

_Louis the sun king:_ CHLOE SERIOUSLY ARE YOU GUYS DEAD?!!????

_Louis the sun king:_ call me. pls

Instantly, Chloe tapped on the little call icon by Louis’ picture.

“Fucking FUCK, Chloe I’ve been trying to get a hold of you all morning. Where are you guys?” Louis screeched into the phone and Chloe reflexively pulled it away from her ear, eyes widening as her headache intensified tenfold.

“I’m still at the hotel,” she replied, shocked at how rough her voice sounded from disuse and crying. She hoped Louis couldn’t tell.

“Niall’s not with you?” he yelled. Chloe was starting to panic herself, rarely if ever did she hear Louis like this. All normal playfulness and sarcasm in his voice replaced with urgent panic.

“No. No, he left last night. I mean, yeah, he left, so I figured he went home,” she answered, still trying to make sense of Louis’ outburst. It was common knowledge that Niall disappeared for hours on end, no one knowing where he went or when he was coming back. And he rarely spent the night at his house anymore. He was either on Chloe’s couch or…

“Maybe he’s with a girl,” she suggested. To her own ears her voice sounded soft and small at the thought that he’d left her only to stumble into another girl’s bed. Tears stung at the corners of her eyes.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Chloe. Niall hasn’t pulled in weeks,” Louis quickly dismissed her. And come to think of it, he hadn’t, at least not to Chloe’s knowledge. She actually couldn’t remember the last time he left her to be with someone else, or the last time they hadn’t slept within fifty feet of each other besides the previous night, of course. Something wet fell on her bare leg, and Chloe registered that she was crying. Again.

“He always comes back, Louis. I’m sure he’s fine.” She was fighting the tremor in her voice so hard that her words came out cheerful, almost flippant. She winced at how uncaring her words must sound to Louis who was in full blown mama bear mode.

“Chloe, his dad. is. here. He wouldn’t miss this,” Louis explained to her slowly like she was a child.

“His- wait, what? Did he know his dad was coming?”

“Yeah, of course he knew his dad was coming! Christ, Chloe. Where’s your head at, honestly?” Chloe could feel her hackles rise.

“Sorry,” she replied, sounding anything but, “Niall didn’t tell me his dad was coming which is so weird cause he’s normally _so_ great about telling us all the details of his life.” Sarcasm dripped from her mouth like acid, and somewhere in the back of her head, she felt bad for taking her frustration out on Louis. But she was also past the point of caring. A huge sigh came through the phone, and she could feel Louis’ weariness through the phone.

“You alright?” he asked, making a noticeable effort to sound calmer and somewhat understanding. A new batch of tears streamed down her face as she pulled the phone away from her mouth as she looked at the ceiling, willing them to stop.

“I’m so tired, Louis,” she whispered. “I’m just very, very tired.”

“Okay. M’sorry, just, can you get here, please?” he pleaded through the phone.

“Yes, yes of course.” Chloe was fully aware that Louis could tell she was crying because her voice was catching every other world. “Just give me an hour, okay?” her voice broke on the last word and she was grateful that Louis didn’t call her on it like he normally would.

An hour. She could get it together in an hour.

________________________

Bobby Horan was Chloe’s new favorite person on the planet, possibly the universe. She wanted to adopt him because being around him was like sitting on the bank of a deep, slow moving river, and yet he was so hilarious that she and Louis had spent the better part of the morning in stitches at stories he’d been sharing about Niall. They were currently squeezed into Louis and Niall’s kitchen, waiting for Harry’s self-proclaimed _“best fry-up in England”_. Louis had called Harry in a similar panic after he realized they had nothing to feed Niall’s dad, and Louis couldn’t cook even if they did. Harry, saint that he was, showed up with bags of food, threw on a head scarf and an apron, and started slaving away in the kitchen. Louis was sat next to him on the counter occasionally throwing potato skins at him and teasing him about Paula underneath his breath. Chloe was across from Bobby, legs crossed underneath herself, giggling uncontrollably at the story Bobby was telling.

“I told him a thousand times we couldn’t get a dog. I worked too much, and I couldn’t trust him to watch it. He was furious and heartbroken. So I come home one day from work and there’s Niall sitting on the kitchen floor with a lamb in his lap trying to feed it crisps.” The image of a ruddy cheeked, eight year-old Niall would be permanently etched in her brain as the cutest thing in the world. “He’d stolen the poor thing and carried it all the way home. It was crying so loudly ya’d think it was dyin’.” He was wiping tears from his own cheeks now. “Niall says to me ‘Da, you said we couldn’t get a _dog_ , but Mr. Blake has more than enough lambs to go around’!”

“Poor little lamb,” Harry interjected through his giggles. Louis nailed him right between the eyes with a potato skin.

“I made him take it back and personally apologize in person to Charlie Blake. I’d never seen Niall cry so hard in his life.” He held his hand over his heart, looking incredibly amused and fond. Chloe felt a surge of affection towards him, grateful that Niall was raised by this particular man.

“Did he name it?” Louis asked eyes twinkling, looking pleased that he had a new story to hold over Niall’s head.

“The Red Power Ranger,” Bobby supplied without missing a beat, smiling ear to ear.

“He named his stolen pet lamb ‘The Red Power Ranger’?” The shit eating grin on his face made it look like Louis’ Christmas had come early.

“Mmmhmm,” Bobby smiled back, “He was such a sweet kid.” A tense silence settled over the group. Talking about Niall was a constant reminder that no one knew where he was, his absence a grey cloud hanging over their otherwise pleasant conversation.

“I’m just going to pop out to call him again,” Chloe announced brightly, flashing a toothy grin that didn’t reach her eyes at Bobby and letting herself out through to the back porch. It had turned into another beautiful late summer day, warm and bright even for London. She could hear the sounds of happy, shrieking children echoing through the alley. Someone was playing music, and the Rolling Stones’ _Sympathy for the Devil_ was bouncing off the walls of the building behind theirs and echoing through the alley.

It was the kind of day that would normally find the six of them in the park playing football or lounging on the porch drinking too much and taking the piss out of each other. A day that would be indistinguishable from all the others, but one she would still remember with a smile on her face weeks later. But now that she’d crossed a line with Niall, one she’d been pacing behind for weeks, she might not have those days anymore. It was clear to her that things might be irrevocably broken.

Dialing Niall for the fifth time that day, his phone, once again, went straight to voicemail. “Hey Niall,” she began, voice strained and too loud, “Um, it’s me. Again. Sorry.  Your dad’s here. I don’t mean to be like, blowing up your phone or anything, but, sorry. I just. Sorry. Can you call one of us back? Sorry.” She ended the call and fought the urge to throw her phone against the building just for the satisfaction of watching something shatter.

“It’s my fault I think,” Bobby’s voice appeared softly behind her, causing Chloe to jump and drop her phone. “Sorry. Didn’t mean ‘ta scare you.” Chloe shook her head trying to play it off, rolling her eyes at her clumsiness and reaching down for her phone. “He’s not very good at being accountable to other people. I think... I was always working, you see, and his brother was so much older. His ma left when he was so young.” He had joined her by the railing, neither of them looking at each other. “He was always cooking for himself, taking care of himself. I tried my best.” Bobby let out a huff of air resting his forearms on the rail and lacing his fingers together. “He’s never been very good at asking for things. Or help. I think he forgets that people worry about him. Care about him.”

“I’m sorry,” Chloe said again for what felt like the hundredth time that day.

“Whatever’s going on, I’m sure it’s not your fault,” he turned towards her, and Chloe’s face burned bright red because she was certain it was.

“I think in this instance it very much is,” she whispered trying to fight the burning in her throat and stinging in her eyes.

“Maybe, maybe not, but I think-”

“Dad!” the back porch door swung open with a clang to reveal an exhausted, frazzled looking Niall. Deep purple bruises sat under his eyes and his skin looked dull and grey. His blonde hair lay flat across his forehead instead of styled in his usual quiff and the clothing he wore practically hung off his body, missized and obviously not his.

With her eyes down, Chloe quickly made her way past him and into the kitchen so that Niall and his dad could have a proper, private reunion. She was trying to tune out the sound of his voice, telling herself that she hadn’t missed it in the short twelve hours they’d been separated because that would be rather pathetic.  

When she looked up from her feet, she saw Harry and Louis huddled in front of the stove dishing out food onto Niall’s mismatched dishware whispering and exchanging worried glances, stopping only when they saw her. All she wanted to do was grab them by their perfect hair and knock their heads together. Couldn’t they at least pretend to be subtle when they were talking about her?

“Chloe,” Louis addressed her first brows coming down over his eyes, looking so un-Louis like as he crossed his arms and walked up close to her, his accusatory stance setting her on edge. “What happened last ni-”

“Please Louis,” she cut him off, pleading pathetically. “Not now, okay? Later. I’ll tell you anything you want to know, just not now.”

“Louis just leave her be, okay?” Harry said gently, handing Louis a plate full of food. He flashed her a dimpled smile that didn’t reach his eyes,  brow creased in worry but he didn’t push as he gave her a plate so heavy and full of hot food that she almost dropped it. Breaking something would feel amazing right now, though getting to fix something that could be fixed. It would be satisfying to look at a mess and feel confident she could clean it up, no problem, no harm done.

Niall and his dad made their way back inside. Niall looking a little less unkempt and slightly more relaxed. But only slightly. The five of them sat down and ate in silence. Niall didn’t look at her once.

_______

After breakfast, Harry drove her to Holly’s to drop off the dress where she spent tea letting Harry do all the talking while Holly threw concerned glances Chloe’s way every minute or so. Harry drove Chloe home and followed her wordlessly upstairs where they settled on Chloe’s couch. Harry stroked her back and hair softly as they watched reruns of the Great British Bake Off in silence. Mary Barry and Harry Styles the only things keeping Chloe sane.

Unlike Louis, Harry hadn’t pressed her at all, his boundless patience never ceasing to surprise her. As time passed he kept getting up to get her more water, and she didn’t notice she’d been crying until he got up to switch out the pillow on his lap with a fresh one when it’s had become damp from her tears and snot. At some point she drifted off only to feel someone grab her feet and place them in a warm lap. Opening her swollen eyes she saw Rosie covering them both up with a soft blanket and place a reassuring hand on her ankle.

“I want to go home,” she said, burying her face into the damp blue pillow in Harry’s lap. His hand immediately stilled in her hair.

“You are home, Chloe,” he said slowly, clearly confused and concerned.  

“No I’m not,” she said, voice muffled by the pillow. “M’not home. I want to go home. To Illinois home.” She was embarrassed because she was acting like a child at daycare throwing a temper tantrum, but she couldn’t help it. Running away from her problems was an attractive solution.  

“Niall was at Liam’s last night,” Rosie said, supplying a simple fact whose underlying message was _‘I know and Liam knows which means everyone knows’._

“I’ve ruined everything,” Chloe said turning over on her back so she could look up at Harry. “He wouldn’t even look at me. I don’t blame him, because I’ve ruined everything. This is all my fault. I’m so fucking selfish,” she choked, her words dripping with bitterness because there it was, the real reason she’d been apologizing all day. The night had been playing over and over again in her head, the ways his hands felt on her skin the light brushing of his fingertips, the tight grip of his palms. They way she’d laughed into his mouth when he kissed her, how it felt like she was floating when her dress fell down her body to pool around her feet on the floor. The look in his eyes when she came, the horror on his face when she’d stopped them and suddenly realized it was her he was hovering above, that it was Chloe’s skin he tasted on his tongue.   

She knew _in that moment_ that he did want her. There was no denying the look in his eyes the pure want a blue-burning lust, but she knew Niall. Knew him better than anyone, enough to know he’d regret it in the morning. He’d regret it, and they’d drift apart. Their friendship would twist into awkward silences and stunted conversation. And Chloe would try to hold on too tight like she always did, and he’d grow restless and weary of her like he did all the women he was ever with. They’d become casual friends who’d only see each other at shared friend’s birthday parties and get together’s. If they’d slept together, it would have ruined them, maybe not right away, but eventually they would crumble like an abandoned building.

But none of that mattered now because after that disaster of a breakfast it already felt broken. It felt broken the moment he left the hotel room, and Chloe felt so selfish. She should have put a stop to it knowing it meant different things to both of them. To Niall it was probably a bit of harmless, drunken fun. Being more emotionally invested, she should have been the one to stop it from the beginning.

But she was greedy and took and took and took because in those few moments with him it felt like she could sustain for years, just off the way he’d looked at her. Niall couldn’t know how much more it meant to her, how could he? So she’d stopped him because she couldn’t lose him. And Niall looked so betrayed by what she had said, practically having calling him a slut. Of course he was angry, his best friend had implied that she didn’t think much more of him than a fuck boy, he had every right to hate her. She’d betrayed him by letting things get as far as they had and then kicked him out like he didn’t matter, like he was worthless. If he never looked at her again she would understand.

“No, no I don’t think that’s it,” Rosie soothed rubbing Chloe’s leg lightly. “You two are just confused is all.”

“Niall definitely doesn’t hate you,” Harry had resumed petting at her hair.

“You should have seen him when he left. He looked so, I don’t even know. I said something I shouldn't have, and it really made him angry. I get it. It’s not like I think he’s...he’s not a bad person, but I just didn’t want to be another... I know he doesn’t think of me like that, and that’s fine, I’m not upset with him. You can’t help how you feel, but he was so angry with me. We were just,” she took a deep breath, “We were just drunk and I don’t know how to fix it.” Tears were falling down the sides of her face and pooling in her tangled curls as she stared up at Harry, pleading silently with him to forgive her. She desperately wanted someone to because Niall might not. A part of her was worried that he was upset because he felt like he’d taken advantage of her, which would be ironic since that was the opposite of the truth.

Harry ran his free hand over his face, rubbing his eyes, “I’m just really confused because I thought-” he was cut off by the loud, insistent ring of Chloe's phone vibrating against the wood on the coffee table. Harry reached over and grabbed it for her, eyes widening when he saw the screen. Chloe made a quick grab for it, turning it around to see Niall’s picture flash across the screen, the one she’d taken of him when he’d fallen asleep with a sandwich hanging out of his mouth. On reflex she answered it.

“Hey. Hi. Niall. Hi.” She slapped a hand over her wet, puffy eyes because, really.

“Blondie,” he answered sounding weary and far away. “Um, I’m outside. Can you meet me?” Chloe shot out of Harry’s lap scrambling to stand up giving herself a terrible head rush in the process, tiny dots of light dancing in her peripheral vision.

“Outside? Of my flat outside?” she asked sounding slightly hysterical.

“No, outside Buckingham Palace,” he joked. The tight knot in her stomach loosened just a fraction.

“Oh, so outside my house for sure then,” she teased back. Hearing Niall’s signature cackle softly through the phone once more she allowed herself to hope they could move past last night.

“Yes, your majesty,” he teased.  

“Okay, just give me a second?”

“Course, I’ll just be here, talking to the nice Queen’s Guard,” Niall said.

“Yes, they’re very chatty. Always good for a laugh,” she turned around to face Rosie and Harry who were both beaming at her. “See you in a minute.” She tapped the end call button and gave them a weak smile back.

“Well, I’ve got to go fix this. Try not to tell anyone what a gigantic baby I am?”

____

Niall was leaning against his car just outside her flat looking noticeably better. He’d changed back into his own clothes, black skinny jeans with holes in both knees. A white tee shirt hug lose under a blue and black plaid button up. He looked so familiar, so much like home that the weight in her chest eased and the jittery feeling in her limbs ebbed away leaving them heavy and relaxed; Chloe felt like curling up and falling asleep on his shoulder for a week or so. She approached him slowly and the eyes that were fixed on his shoes shot up at her approach. He drew the thumbnail he’d been biting at from his mouth and gave her a tentative, closed mouth smile.

“Hey, Blondie,” Niall croaked out.

“Hey yourself,” she stood in front of him with her arms glued to her sides unsure if she was allowed to hug him or not. It felt unnatural not to be touching him, to be standing this close apart like she didn’t know how tactile they were with each other until it felt like they couldn’t be anymore. There was so much she wanted to say. So much she wanted to ask. She started with, “Where’s your dad?”

“Having dinner with his cousin.  M’not the only Horan in London.” He was tugging at the hair right above his right ear, a tell-tale sign he was nervous.

“Right,” she replied and they continued to just stand there just looking at each other. Niall radiating nervous energy, Chloe feeling heavy and immobile.

“Chloe I’m-”

“I’m so sorry.” They both spoke at the same time and at her apology she threw her hands over her face and closed the space between them burying herself in his neck.  

“Hey,” he patted her back, alarmed at her reaction. “It’s okay. We’re okay,” he soothed.

“Just can’t stand the thought of us not being friends and I’m sorry,” she admitted into his shirt. “I shouldn’t have let it happen, I shouldn’t have said those things. I don’t think that about you. It’s all my fault and I’m sorry,” she kept going, words coming out of her so fast and bleeding into each other.

“No s’my fault,” he replied roughly. “I should have left before... I never wanted to treat you like that.”

“I know. I know. I know,” she tried to comfort him, wanting to assure him that she wasn’t angry. Not with him, anyway. They stood like that for a while, his hands rubbing the length of her back as she breathed heavily into his shoulder. After some time he moved his hands to her shoulders and pushed her back a bit to look at her blotchy face.

“You and me forever, right?” he was staring directly into her bloodshot eyes. “We’ll forget it ever happened?” he offered up after she’d failed to answer. Chloe nodded her head vigorously, and he smiled at her.It looked pinched, resigned.

Despite their words, she could feel the fault lines of their relationship rumble and shift. Was this really what she wanted? If this were a movie, this would be the scene where they both confessed their undying love for each other. The scene where they’d get in his car and ride off into the sunset. But this was real life where she got to have nice things, even if she didn’t get to have them the way she wanted. Forever with Niall seemed lovely, even if it wasn’t completely on her terms. Knowing she’d rather have a piece of him than none at all she was willing to put her fantasies aside and accept things the way they were.  

“Yes, please. You and me forever,” she agreed with the same sad, small smile. He took a deep breath and opened the passenger door of the car behind them so she could get in.  

“Drive?” he asked.

“Drive,” she replied dragging herself into the worn, familiar interior of his car. A drive would fix it. For them, it always did.

_____

The pigeons were mocking her again, she just knew it. Cooing and strutting about, eyeing her with all the judgement their bird brains could muster.

“Chloe, are you listening to me? Chloe!” Holly’s voice cut through her drafting a mental list of why pigeons should be banned from the planet, possibly the galaxy. Harry, Chloe, and Holly were sat on a park bench enjoying lunch. Well, Harry and Holly were enjoying lunch; Chloe was too anxious and distracted to eat.

“Yes, sorry Holly. What did you just say?” She turned to direct her gaze at the upturned eyebrow and pinched lipped look that Chloe swears Holly practices in the mirror.

“I was saying, and I think young Harry here agrees,” Chloe glanced over Holly’s head to Harry whose eyes were twice the size they normally were and shaking his head back and forth. “That it’s rather inappropriate for a suitor to send you flowers when you met while you were on date with another man,” Holly finished her thought like it was a law.

“He’s just being nice,” Harry said trying to take the heat off Chloe.

“Nice my foot, Harry. Men don’t send women flowers to be nice; they send women flowers when they want to take them to bed.” Harry choked on his sandwitch mid bite eyes wide, comically pounding on his chest trying to cover his laugh. “It’s especially inappropriate when you’re with someone else. It’s just not proper, business associates or not,” Holly finished and took a bite out of the turkey sandwich Chloe hadn’t the appetite for.

Holly had shown up for an impromptu lunch with Harry and Chloe that afternoon and walked in the office the same time as a delivery of peonies, the same flowers from the Gala, had come for Chloe because the universe was playing the largest, least funny joke on her it could.  The attached card had read  It was lovely to meet you. We still owe each other burgers, if you’re ready - Sam. Harry was amused. Chloe was embarrassed. Holly was incensed.

“I’m not _with_ anyone,” Chloe said softly but firmly and turned back to glare at the pigeons who were pecking at their feet too close for comfort.  

“You’re _with_ Niall,” Holly said back, slowly, like she was explaining simple math to a child. Chloe was too tired to argue.

“They’re just friends, love,” Harry answered sounding weary, throwing his long arm over Holly’s shoulder as an excuse to grab Chloe’s upper arm and squeeze gently.

“That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard in my life!”  Holly turned back to Chloe, eyes wild and furious. “I saw Niall just yesterday. The boy didn’t stop talking about you and neither did his father.” Chloe’s heart stopped and she looked to Harry for confirmation, like he’d know if Bobby and Niall Horan were at Holly Hillburn’s penthouse singing her praises. All Harry could offer was a shoulder shrug and a slight pout. The fact that Harry’d only been to Holly’s once for tea while Niall and Chloe went weekly didn’t sit well with him.

“Bobby Horan is a lovely man, don’t you think, Holly?” Chloe offered up trying desperately to change the subject.

“Yes, very well mannered,” Holly bristled out. “Don’t change the subject. Are you going to go to a dreadful American bar with this Sam?” she asked her.

Chloe had to ask herself the question. Things with Niall had seemingly gone back to normal, as normal as they could be while his father was in town. Every time they’d seen each other after their drive the previous Sunday, Niall’s dad had been present. There simply wasn’t any time for her to think about anything else developing in their relationship or where they stood. And they’d agreed it was a mistake, and it was never going to happen again. There should be nothing holding her back now, the nails had been driven into the coffin, her girly romantic dreams of Niall had been dead and buried and lived six feet under.

“Maybe,” she answered turning to look Holly straight in the eye feeling rebellious and self destructive. Holly’s eyes narrowed for a fraction of a second before she relented.

“You know, Chloe, for a smart girl you can be quite stupid.”

“Agreed,” Harry clipped.

Chloe shot her foot out to scare away the pigeons at her feet.

___

It was Bobby’s last day in London before his flight back to Ireland, and they were all enjoying it with a big game of footie at their usual park. As usual Rosie, Harry, and Chloe were “losing artfully” while Louis, Niall, and Liam pulled no punches in kicking their asses. The boys had repeatedly asked if they wanted to switch teams, but Rosie, Harry, and Chloe all had too much fun together on their ‘girl team’ to consider breaking the gang up. The only change in today was that they had Bobby to ref.

“You’re cheatin’ again, Louis,” he barked out across the field as Louis had grabbed Niall around the waist to prevent him from blocking Harry taking a shot at their goal.

“It doesn’t count if it’s against me own team!” he bellowed back as he wrestled Niall to the ground. Harry geared up to take the shot at a giggling Liam, face screwed up in mock concentration, pink tongue sticking out comically and he drew back his leg and kicked the ball into the goal.

“Goal!” Bobby shouted out and Rosie tackled Harry in celebration. Louis crawled off of a disbelieving Niall to high five him as Liam mocked outrage and anger at them all. Chloe flew out of her own goal to throw herself belatedly on the congratulatory puppy pile.

“This is the least professional game of football I’ve ever seen,” Bobby said to Niall as he walked over to stand beside him. They were both resting their arms across their chests, the similarities so apparent between them as they stood side by side. Their blue, sparkling eyes both amused and frustrated, all matching ruddy cheeks and beaming smiles. From her resting spot on Rosie’s stomach Chloe felt overwhelmingly grateful to have met him.

“We were a perfectly respectable club until those two,” he pointed at Chloe and Harry who had starting humming We Are the Champions, “showed up.”

“You might have been respectable but you certainly weren’t any fun!” Chloe pointed right back at a bemused Niall and then stuck her tongue out. He beamed back at her.

“That’s true, Blondie.”

“Does this happen every time they score?” Bobby asked Niall.

“Yep, which means it doesn't happen often,” Niall answered.

“Heeeyyyy,” Rosie, Harry, and Chloe all whined in unison and they descended back into laughter.

It was one of the better moments of the past week, one of those days Chloe was nostalgic for before it even ended. She felt loved, like she truly belonged there, the uncertainty of the past week pushed into the back recesses of her mind replaced with complete contentment reflected on the faces of all of her friends. Her London family. That rare group of people she’d found where laughter came easily and silence was rarely awkward. There, in the slightly damp and worn grass of the park, sweaty and energized Chloe never wanted the day to end. She sometimes wondered if there was a heaven, and if so, she hoped it was made up of your best days on repeat because this would be one of them.

Closing her eyes and tilting her face up to catch the most sun, Chloe relaxed into the break they’d silently agreed to take. Rosie combed her fingers as best as she could through her curly blonde mess of hair. Louis was doing the same to Harry feet away.

“Harold, your hair is so long,” Louis admonished after a beat. Chloe squinted one eye open to glance over at Louis who was trying to teach Liam how to braid hair. Louis’s designs as of late had become quite skilled and elaborate as he’d taken to practicing on Rosie and Chloe as well.   

“Nah, don’t think so mate. It looks ace,” Liam said hands clumsily folding over each other making  a mess of Harry’s curls.

“I agree, everyone on Girl Team has the most exquisite hair. Don’t you agree, Harry?” Rosie added, stomach rising and falling as she spoke shifting Chloe’s head up and down, the vibrations pleasant against her ear.

Harry didn’t answer though, and Chloe followed his eye line to gaze at Niall who was standing directly across from his father some distance away from the group, the two of them having migrated away from their puppy pile without anyone noticing. They were having what appeared to be a serious discussion. Bobby’s hand was resting on Niall’s right shoulder who was staring at the grass by his feet nodding every so often. At one point Niall lifted his head up to look back at the group sprawled on the grass to find Chloe’s eyes only to whip his head back down to stare at his worn cleats again. Harry and Chloe’s eyes met both giving each other a shrug and a half smile. Feeling another pair of eyes on her she turned to find Louis studying her with narrowed eyes and a pinched mouth, she quickly stuck her tongue out at him and Louis rearranged his features so his chin jutted out and his eyes we crossed.

“You look like a chimp when you do that, you know?” Chloe said, ripping a clump of grass out of the ground and tossing it at his face, none of it actually reaching him falling instead in a pile at his legs.

“Yeah, a handsome chimp,” he replied grabbing grass and throwing it back at her.

“True,” she admitted twisting back around to see Niall and his dad hugging, saying a long goodbye. Bobby had to leave soon, and she regretted everything she hadn’t asked him yet. She fought the urge to run over to him and shake his hand for raising the boy who’d become her best friend and apologize for treating him so poorly. Father and son broke apart a moment later and walked slowly back towards the five of them lounging and cuddling in the grass like big cats.

“Alright ya lazy lot,” Bobby spoke first, tone harsh but the twinkle in his eye made her smile, “I’m ref, and I say next team to score wins.”

“Psh,” Louis hissed through his teeth. “That hardly seems fair. We’re up by, what? A thousand?” He bounced up and stretched his hands over his head.

“You scared?” Rosie asked drawing herself up to full height, tall and willowy, hovering an inch above him. An inch Louis loathed.

“Never!” he bellowed and the two of them lunged for the forgotten football, wrestling for possession.

Chloe glanced back at Niall who smiled, small and hopeful, so different from his usual face splitting, easy grin and she found herself offering him back the same. She was scared that when Bobby left, they’d be forced to admit that things between them had changed that they might have to relearn how to be there for each other. Chloe was willing, though, if he was.

“Oi, mate!” They were both yanked out of their silent conversation to find Liam hauling a thrashing Louis off of Rosie who was on her back laughing and clutching the ball in victory. “Alright, babe?” he asked down at her equal parts amused and concerned.

“Yeah, Li, and you’re going down!” she challenged and Harry agreed making fists with his hands and throwing a war cry into the air. Chloe walked over to Niall to stand beside him gently bumping their shoulders together.

“What’s up?” he asked.

“I just really want to apologize,” Chloe said. Niall’s face immediately fell as he began biting his lip.

“For what, Blondie?” he asked staring very determinedly at their friends who had started to perform some sort of war dance around each other stopping to have a fit of laughter every ten seconds or so.

‘For the goal I’m about to score. May my victory echo forever in the halls of Valhalla,” she answered deadpan, but she winked at him just before sprinting off to join her friends in their rather dramatic posturing and heard Niall’s crack of laughter just behind her, hot on her heels.

Girl Team lost. But Chloe couldn’t bring herself to care because when she went with Niall to drop his dad off at the airport he held her hand the whole way. There and back.

______________

The world’s tallest pair of heels and Chloe were having a staring contest. Chloe was losing.

“I don’t see how these are going to make me any more confident,” she whined to Rosie. There were clothes strewn over Chloe’s bed because, once again, Rosie was helping her pick an outfit which was impossible because all of Chloe’s clothes were awful and she had nothing to wear. Ever. Her roommate had buried herself in Chloe’s closet like a mole and was throwing dresses and shoes out at an alarming rate.

Questioning why she had agreed to this date for the fifth time, Chloe threw herself on the bed groaning loud enough that it echoed off her tall ceiling.

“You said he was tall,” Rosie stated from deep within the confines of her closet. “You don’t want to be staring up at him all night do you? You’ll get an ache in your neck.”

“No,” Chloe pouted. “But I also think that falling flat on my ass every five minutes isn’t the best first date impression.”

Rosie emerged from her closet holding a skimpy, backless dress that Chloe didn’t even remember she owned. Widening her eyes, Chloe shook her head no before her beautiful but insane roommate could plead the garment’s case to her.

“If you fall, you could play it off as swooning,” Rosie teased, sticking out her hips and holding the back of her hand to her forehead. “Oh, Sam you’re so tall and handsome! I’m so overcome by your rugged manly arms and face!” Rosie’s American accent was laughably bad.

“Why do you think I sound like Scarlett O’Hara?” Chloe had put her hands in the the shoes and was wearing them like mittens pointing one aggressively at Rosie.

“It’s the only American accent I can do. My mum was obsessed with _Gone With the Wind_ ,” she answered, dropping the sequined dress to the floor and grabbing the shoes off of Chloe’s hands.

“Well, Vivien Leigh was British, you know. So it makes sense.” Chloe let herself fall back onto the bed to stare up at the ceiling. “Scarlett O’Hara never had this problem,” Chloe huffed.

“She literally did,” Rosie said throwing herself beside Chloe and turned to face her. “She had so little to wear once that she had to make a dress out of curtains.”

“Oh. Right.”

“Are you sure you want to go?” Rosie asked after some silence gently poking at Chloe with her foot.

“Can’t back out now, I have to be there in an hour.”

“Just so you know, I think you’re making a mistake,” Rosie said tugging on a stray curl that had wormed it’s way out of Chloe’s sloppy braid.

“I can’t just…,” she stopped herself. She hadn’t actually vocalized her feelings to anyone, afraid that once she popped the bubble of silence everything she had kept on lockdown would come rushing out like a bad leak and there’d be no stopping her from running to Niall and telling him every embarrassing feeling she held for him. “Can’t just sit around waiting for something that’s never going to happen. I think I’m better than that,” Chloe paused, “I deserve to be told that I’m pretty and nice and feel like I’m wanted.”

“I agree,” Rosie said. “It has nothing to do with you. You know that right? Niall isn’t good at these things. He’s not good at asking for what he really wants,” Chloe rolled on her side so Rosie couldn’t see her face.

“What he wants is for us to be friends. That’s what I’m going to give him,” she mumbled.

“And what I want is for something to wear on my date,” she sat up and rolled her shoulders out, feeling her back crackle with tension as she silently pep talked herself into enjoying the night.

______________

There were few days that Chloe ever felt ugly, really only the days where she was experiencing the joys of being a hormonal woman, or when she was sick. That being said, there were few days she felt truly beautiful, but now, standing in front of her mirror in an ethereal green dress, hair braided on top of her head, light golden makeup on her eyes, she felt lovely. Tentatively stepping out into the living room to reveal her final look Chloe wasn’t seeking approval, just affirmation.

“Oh, hey!” Liam practically sang out when she came to stand in front of the coffee table holding her arms out smiling. “You look proper beautiful,” he complimented.

“You really do!” Rosie supplied leaning her head on Liam’s shoulder.

“Thanks lady and gentleman! I better head out, though. Don’t want to be late,” she said rushing into her room to grab her gold clutch and check her lipstick one last time.

“Hey, Blondie, I’m here!” Niall’s voice called from the front door of the flat. Chloe froze. Shit. It was Tuesday. “Brought us some curry.” She heard him shuffling through the entry hall of the flat to, greet Liam and Rosie. Chloe took a deep breath and stepped into the living room.

“Woah, there,” Niall stopped to take in her full appearance looking half confused half pleased. “Little dressed up for bad movie night, wouldn’t ya say?” he walked around the coffee table to settle on the couch and began to dig into the takeaway boxes he brought.

“I totally forgot it’s Tuesday,” Chloe said lamely.

“You forgot it’s Tuesday?” Niall laughed, unwrapping a plastic fork to shove chicken in his mouth.

“I mean, we haven’t done this in a month. Between the gala and your dad... I’m sorry I can’t do tonight. I’m going out.” Niall stopped mid chew and re-took in her appearance the gears shifting in his brain. His blue bright eyes darkened a bit and narrowed. He licked his lips and cocked his head to the side.

“With Harry? You guys going to go to one of your pretentious plays again?” his voice cracked a bit in his effort to sound casual.

“No, not with Harry. With this guy. Sam?” she started pulling at her earring. Liam and Rosie were starting to squirm on the couch as the air in the room thickened with electric tension.

“Who’s Sam? I’ve never heard you talk about a Sam before,” Niall plopped his fork back down on the coffee table hard enough that she jumped.

“I met him at the Gala. He works for-”

“You met him at the Gala?” Niall interrupted looking incredulous and turned to Liam for support. When all Liam did was open and close his mouth silently like a fish, Niall refocused on her. “The Gala that you and I went to together?” Niall asked. She was immediately defensive. Niall had no right to make her feel guilty about seeing someone because they were _just friends_. That’s all. She’d done nothing wrong, and Niall was being extremely unfair. Chloe was determined to keep her cool.

“I mean, that’s when I met him in person. We’d talked on the phone a bunch before. He’s really nice-”

“It’s Tuesday. This is what we do Tuesday. You’re blowing me off for some dude you met while we were on a date?” Niall cut her off.

“You’re kidding right? How many times have you fucked off in the middle of movie night to meet up with some girl? How many? Pretty much every other time since we started doing them. Right? Have I ever said anything about that?” her effort to remain calm had failed and her words were dripping with poison, and she threw them at him hoping that one would land to hurt him so he would understand just a fraction of how she’d been feeling. She continued, almost happy at how Niall physically recoiled from her words, his eyes swimming with hurt. “And those weren’t even real dates! I’m going on an _actual_ date with an _actual_ man who thinks I’m great.”

“Where?”

“Why the fuck do you care?” she shot out but then sighed and replied “The Lockhart. It’s an American bar. He’s an American and we’re both homesick.” Niall made a hissing, annoyed sound. She stood standing before him for a moment longer,  wondering who would draw fire next from the pile of ammunition they’d been piling up against one another for the past couple of weeks. Just when Niall looked like he was going to speak again Chloe turned on her heel, marched down the hallway, and made sure to slam the door extra hard on her way out.

____

There wasn’t a single thing wrong with Sam Strussman. Well at least as far as Chloe could tell. He was well read, well educated, funny, and charming, not to mention one of the most handsome men she had ever met.

“What do you think they put in these fries?” Chloe asked him leaning over the table to whisper it like a secret, feeling flirtatious and reckless. She wanted to kiss him on the mouth for all the wrong reasons, just to prove that she could.

He leaned in to smirk back at her, making a show of looking around behind both shoulders as if nervous they’d be overheard before whispering “Fairy dust, probably.” Chloe grabbed another fry and bit it for show.

“Pizza: good, authentic, midwestern pizza,” he declared slapping his hand on the table like a judge. They’d been playing a _‘what do you miss most about home’_ game pretty much since they were seated in their booth.

“Mmmm,” Chloe agreed as she sipped her whiskey. “Summer thunderstorms.”

“Yes!” he pointed at her raising his eyebrows in glee. “The really violent ones that scare you a bit.”  She smiled back at him wide as she nodded in a agreement. The date had been going surprisingly well despite the fact that her brain kept flashing a picture of the anguished look of betrayal and hurt on Niall’s face when she stormed out of her flat two hours ago in front of her eyes. She and Sam were having a great time, but she kept wondering when she could sneak out to give Niall a call to apologize for the whole thing.

“Hey I never told you how amazing that gala was,” Sam took another drink out of his glass studying her in a way she hadn’t been looked at in a while. It was making her flush and squirmy.

“You did, actually. Several times. But thanks! I had a lot of help. But, thanks,” Chloe said ducking her head behind her glass to finish it off.

“You need another?” he asked mirroring her and shooting back his bourbon in one go.

“Sure. Why not?” Chloe should probably slow down. Getting drunk on a first date wasn’t a good idea, but it was helping to slow the running of her mind. Sam took her empty glass and slipped out of the booth up to the bar. She had just pulled out her phone to shoot Niall an apology text when she heard a familiar voice.

“Blondie,” it slurred out, and Chloe was momentarily unable to look up from her phone, hoping she’d just heard the voice in her head, that the whiskey and flirting was addling her brain. Looking up, she was met with familiar, glazed over blue eyes. Niall’s face was flushed, and his shirt was buttoned wrong leaving it wonky and crooked. A thin layer of sweat covered his forehead and made him look almost sick.

“You’re drunk,” she said quickly hoping it would snap him out of it a bit. Niall could be incorrigible when intoxicated, and Chloe had learned early on to be short and to the point when he was like this.

“Nah,” he practically shouted. “Li and I did some shots but m’not drunk. And it’s Tuesday. We always hang out on Tuesday,” he shuffled in to sit next to her pushing her over gently to make room for him. “Some date you’re on,” he gestured to the empty set across from them.

“Niall you have to leave,” she pleaded looking at Sam who was chatting animatedly with the bartender gesturing to the whisky bottles lining the wall behind the bar completely obvilous, thank god.

“But it’s Tuesday. We always hang out on tuesday,” he whined. “Your hair looks pretty.” Niall brought his hand up to pet lightly at her head, and Chloe was quick to slap it away.

“Please leave, Niall. We can hang out tomorrow. I promise.” And by hanging out she meant reaming him out for three hours and making him buy her food and booze to make up for it.

“Nah. I wanna meet this guy. He’s a creep for making you sit here alone.” Niall threw his arm around her shoulder. He smelled like liquor and curry and up close she could see how wild and desperate his eyes looked behind his too wide smile.

“He’s getting us another round,” she said, defensive, while unlocking her phone screen and hitting Louis’ contact information. Niall rested his head on her shoulder and she could feel the heat radiating off his forehead bleeding into her skin.

“This is the phone of Louis William Tomlinson. How may I help you?” Harry’s slow drawl came through the phone.

“Harry, can you put Louis on please-” Niall shot off her shoulder and wrenched the phone out of her hand before she could stop him.

“Harreahhh,” Niall yelled into the phone. “Harry we’re at this stupid American bar, and Chloe looks pretty. But her date’s a dick who left her alone,” Chloe pushed his arm away and twisted around to grab the phone back away from him.

“Can I help you?” Sam’s voice cut through their struggle and Chloe felt instant relief and horror imagining what it must look like to him, her legs basically straddling Niall in attempts to grab her phone back.

“We’re good here. You can move along,” Niall spoke with acid in his tone, eyes narrowing, sizing Sam up like he was thinking of doing something ridiculous like fighting him. Chloe took the pause to grab her phone back from Niall, wrenching it out of his hand. “Heeyyy, I was talkin to Hazzah.”

Chloe put as much distance between herself and Niall as she could on the small bench of their booth, but Niall followed her as he scooted pressing his thigh against hers. Sam sat down across from her and handed her drink over cautiously, eyeing Niall with flared nostrils and pinched lips. He darted his glance back to Chloe after she offered no explanation and she mouthed ‘ _I’m so sorry, he’s drunk_ ’ in hopes Sam would realize she didn’t plan this.

“I’m Sam,” he offered his hand out to Niall after taking a long swig from his glass. God, he was perfect, Chloe thought, clearly trying to take the high road. The road an adult man should take. A road the blonde boy next to her rarely frequented. The mortification she felt sitting next to Niall was oppressive, and a blush was growing up her neck like ivy. For the briefest of moments, Chloe wished she and Niall had never met.

“Niall. Chloe’s best friend,” Niall replied taking Sam’s hand in his and holding on for longer than socially appropriate, neither of them looked willing to break the contact first.

“Yes and Niall was just leaving. Weren’t you, Ni?” Chloe said, giving Niall’s leg a firm shove with her own trying desperately to snap him out of whatever drunk possessive mindspace he’d drank himself to.

“Nah, I thought we could all get to know each other,” he replied. Chloe shook her head fast and tight but Niall pretended not to see her and continued. “I mean what brings someone like you to London?”

Sam coughed throwing Chloe an exasperated look before seeing her mouth ‘I’m sorry’ to him again as her face crumpled on the verge of tears. He gave her a sympathetic look before turning back to Niall, eyes hard once more. “I’m the head of marketing for The Clean Water Project,” he answered coolly.

“Ah, another do gooder, like our Chloe here,” he tried placing his hand over hers on the table but Chloe drew back from his clammy touch like she’d been burned and crossed her hands over her stomach.

“And what do you do, Niall?” Sam’s patience was wearing thin, his anger resting just below the surface. Chloe could sense it. She had to do something.

“He-” she began.

“I’m a musician.” Niall was practically yelling posture forward like he was about to attack, daring Sam to say anything bad about him and his guitar.

“And how’s that going for you?”

“Great, going on tour in a few weeks.” Chloe who had been avoiding looking at Niall for the past minute snapped her head to look at him. So he’d decided, then. He’d decided and he didn’t even tell her.  He was leaving with Ed. Despite the fact that she wanted to hit him, her heart felt heavy, like he was gone already. Two inches away and he felt so far like if she reached out right now her hand would go right through him to grasp at nothing but air. And, honestly, how dare he treat her like this and then leave? It wasn’t fair and Chloe was done.

“I want you to leave now.” All gentle pleading was gone now, her voice was hard and absolute. Niall’s face scrunched up, hurt.

“But-”

“Fucking leave,” she yelled loud enough that several people around their booth turned to look, one man laughed at the scene she was causing. Her mind suddenly remembered the first night they met; the fake fight they’d staged for fun. But they weren’t playing around now. This was real. Real feelings, real anger, real heartbreak as they were saying and doing things to each other that they couldn’t take back, actions that would leave yet more cracks in their foundation, invisible tears over the fabric of their relationship.

So that’s that, then.

Niall stood up fast, face burning, having the grace to look at least a little sorry. He sent her one last pleading look, but Chloe refused to give an inch. She registered for a moment that she’d never seen him look this lost; not on the nights where his insomnia got so bad he’d pull at his own hair. Not the day he spent in her lap making a pro con list of staying at the guitar shop versus touring. Even when she kicked him out of her bed after the gala he didn’t manage to look this devastated, this hurt. But seeing the resolve in her eyes, his face molded into something harder, something resolved and it turned her stomach inside out.

Leaning over the other side of the booth he slapped his hand down lightly on Sam’s shoulder and curled over close to him like a teenage girl about to share a secret. Looking over at Chloe he said “Have fun with this one, mate,” he jabbed his thumb in her direction, “be careful, though she’s a bit of a tease.”

A strange, strangled noise left her body, something between a cough and a laugh. She saw the immediate regret in Niall’s eyes, the apology that was about to tumble out of his mouth as he stood up straight once more and reached out for her shaking his head frantically from side to side. He never got a chance to apologize, though. Sam stood up calmly from the booth and stood before Niall.

“It’s time to go,” he said and didn’t back down till Niall left like a dog with it’s tail tucked between it’s legs.

“Well, that was interesting,” Sam said as he tucked himself into her side of the booth and gently put his arm around her shoulders allowing her to bury her ruby-red face into his shirt.

He was wonderful and understanding and, Chloe observed with self loathing, not the person she wanted.

_________

The door to Niall and Louis flat slammed loud enough to rattle the pictures on the wall. Good, Chloe thought to herself and she stomped into their flat. Niall had given her keys the previous month after their entryway buzzer had broken, sick of having to haul himself up and down stairs every time they hung out. Chloe knew tonight she’d be returning them, but not before she got her last word in. Several last words, actually.

“Niall?” Louis called from the kitchen rounding the corner to find a livid frizzy haired Chloe. “Oh, hey Chlo,” he said looking her up and down.

“Where is he? Is he here?” she pushed past him in the kitchen finding it empty. “NIALL?” she yelled, her voice echoing through the flat. She rounded the corner to throw open his bedroom door finding it empty and unused as usual.

“He’s not here.” Louis followed her around the flat as she paced like a madwoman. “What’s going on?” he put his hands on his hips using his  _‘I’m Louis; I’m the boss’_ voice on her that normally put everyone in line. Not this time, though.

“Fine,” she huffed planting herself on the couch. “I’ll just wait for him to get back then.”

“Okay,” Louis replied slowly sitting next to her, his body posture rigid. “I can’t fix it if you don’t tell me what happened, you know.”

“You can’t fix this because you can’t fix Niall,” she sassed wanting to hurt someone so they could feel one fraction of how slashed open she felt and poor Louis was the closest thing she had to a target.

“What happened? I’ve never seen you like this. Jesus, Choe, you’re shaking.” Louis pulled a discarded blanket off the floor and wrapped it around her shoulders.

“I was so stupid to think we could go back.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t go back,” Louis answered rubbing her back in large soothing circles.

“What are you talking about? You think we shouldn't be friends?” It was one thing to tell herself, quite another for one of her best friends to say it outloud.

“In a way, babe, yeah,” He sighed. “You two have been dancing around this for too long.” Chloe simply shook her head, but some of her anger was dissipating, falling away because she wasn’t stupid. She knew that Niall had behaved so horribly out of jealousy, and even though she knew he’d acted like a child, and it would take some serious time to forgive him for what he’d said and done, she was _happy_ that Niall was jealous. Happy that he might have woken up to the fact that that she wouldn’t be there forever, that he couldn’t have his cake and eat it too.

Hearing the front door unlock her insides lurched with nerves, pain, and a small sliver of hope. That was until she heard a loud, girlish giggle and the familiar sounds of wet skin coming together and falling apart. She heard Louis mumble something like ‘unbelievable’ before she let the ugly meanness she felt for Niall come roaring back into her veins. Nial _l never_ brought his girls back to his place, he always went to theirs. In her hurt paranoia she wondered if he’d planned this, planned Chloe seeing this just to twist the knife.

Niall and the girl he had pulled rounded the corner stuck together like magnets, giggling into each others mouths like children, the sounds of their mouths grotesque and amplified. She wondered if they had looked that ridiculous attached at the mouth the night of the gala, when it was happening she had pictured a rosy mist surrounding them, the thing they shared beautiful, magical, not rushed and ugly like the two figures in front of her. Louis cleared his throat loudly and they broke apart slightly, but Niall’s arm remained snaked around the girl’s thin waist.

Her. The girl, tall and leggy with long shiny brown hair, a person Chloe hated more than anyone else she’d ever hated in her life. The girl she’d never be. She almost laughed at the girl’s dress, backless, black, and shiny, so much like the dress Rosie had suggested she wear earlier for her date. The date that Niall ruined. The date that Niall ruined and then immediately went out and pulled. This girl. This girl in his long line of girls that weren’t Chloe. She hated her. She hated Niall. She hated herself.

Niall couldn’t even look at her, the coward.

_I fucking hate you. I fucking hate that I care about you and that I love you and that you don’t love anyone but yourself. I hate your stupid fucking flat with the dirty bathroom and unused bed. I hate that you’re so scared of your own shadow. Scared to tell me how you feel. I hate that you’re leaving me. I hate the girls you’re going to meet. I hate her. I hate you._

_I love you._

Aware of how she must look to them, frazzled and short and sad she stood up making herself as tall as should could.

“Have fun with this one, love,” Chloe echoed his words from before a cold smile forming on her face, voice sounding foreign to her own ears. “I’d keep my shoes on if I were you, though. He likes his girls to make a quick exit.”

She walked past the two of them, the girl’s mouth agape, Niall’s shoulders slumped, and out of the flat.

Out of his life.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't hate me.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything falls apart.

_[ Recommended Listening ](https://open.spotify.com/user/1260911781/playlist/4Spn8kJKiasBifDnbC1XlP) _

 

 

Chloe had nowhere to go.

Well, that wasn’t exactly true. She could go home, take the ten minute tube ride that was so familiar she could make it with her eyes closed, crawl into bed, and fade into oblivion. There was no doubt in her mind, though, that Rosie and Liam already knew what had happened. It wouldn’t be uncommon amongst the six of them. Between Louis’ big mouth and Liam’s inability to lie with conviction, news traveled quickly and there were rarely secrets. She couldn’t bear the thought of walking through the door to be greeted by Rosie’s compassionate voice and Liam’s kind eyes, or worse, their anger. Niall was there first. He was Liam’s oldest friend, and Rosie and Liam were that sort of lovely package deal couple that she knew there was a very real possibility she’d lost both of them.

Harry’s was a no go. He was too good, too kind. He’d take one look at her on his doorstep and know all the awful things she’d said, The disappointed look on his face would break her because she knew he would be right. Perfect, _perfect_ Harry.

 

 

So she walked. Londoners were pouring out of bars and smoking in the street, so the air was infected with nicotine clouds that burned her already watery eyes and nose. Surrounded by strangers, she pushed through them with her arms around her stomach, past faceless people living their lives completely oblivious that her’s was falling apart. She wondered how different her life would be if she had applied to a different apartment, if she had made friends with one of these random people on this street, if she had never moved to London at all.

Before she realized she was doing it, she dialed her father. It was something she hadn’t done in a while, calling him to help stave off the panic and loneliness. Sometime in the past few months, she’d found a safe place in London and had only called to check on her Dad, make sure he took out the trash and ate enough greens. But now she felt like there was no one else to call, so she settled on the curb to listen to the endless ringing of her phone. Having walked aimlessly for about a half hour, her feet were starting to blister. Date shoes are never good walking shoes.

As she dialed her father for the third time, a second call beeped through. She pulled the phone back looking at the screen in excitement, praying it was her dad only to ignore the incoming call from Louis. For the next several minutes she repeated the same pattern, calling her Dad and ignoring the non stop calls from Louis until her already low phone battery gave out. Sighing shakily she pulled herself up, slipped her shoes back on her bleeding feet, and walked.

______

There was a very real possibility that Holly was going to call the police on Chloe. Knowing her as well as Chloe did, she was positive that Mrs. Hillburn wasn’t too keen on having people lay on her buzzer in the dusky, early hours of the morning.

After an hour of walking, she had unconsciously found herself at the gates of Holly’s penthouse. Holly often complained of not sleeping well, and at this moment Chloe selfishly hoped it was true.

“Listen here! I _will_ call the authorities the next time you buzz, so you had better make yourself scarce!” Holly’s voice commanded through the intercom. Chloe sagged in relief.

“Holly, it’s Chloe. Can you let me in?”

“Chloe? What on earth? What are you doing out there, young lady? Are you intoxicated?” Holly reprimanded Chloe through the scratchy intercom. But the gate opened a moment later without Chloe’s answer. Limping up the steps and through the front door, she thanked every deity she could think of for Holly Hillburn.

When Holly’s door flung open, Chloe was greeted by a pinched face. Holly looked ready to give Chloe a large, unpleasant piece of her mind. One look at Chloe though, and Holly’s expression relaxed into something more sympathetic as Humphry mewled and circled her feet. Taking a firm yet gentle hold of Chloe’s arm, Holly wordlessly led her into the wide, bright entryway of her flat and steadied Chloe when she reached down to remove her heels and let them clunk off her feet.

Seeing the blood on the sides of her feet and the insides of her shoes Holly murmured an “oh dear” under her breath and continued to lead Chloe into the flat past the parlor to the guest bath. She quickly deposited Chloe on the gleaming white toilet and started running warm water in the base of the tub. Humphrey jumped up into Chloe’s lap and she pet at him half-heartedly while he purred in her lap like a machine. Once there was a good two inches of steamy water in the tub Holly helped her maneuver sideways to place her feet in the water. Chloe watched the blood cloud and dissipate around her swollen and bruised feet.

“I’m sorry,” Chloe said after a couple moments had passed and the pain in her feet eased slightly. Holly shook her head slowly, and began to run her fingers through Chloe’s tangled blonde curls, frizzed up and wild from the damp night air. Chloe wondered why she wasn’t crying, but really she was too tired to care. Numb, she felt numb. The continued throbbing in her feet was the only thing keeping her alert.

Holly pulled out a towel and placed it on the edge of the tub and disappeared quietly from the room allowing Chloe some privacy as she dried off her feet, trying and failing not to get blood on Holly’s expensive towel. Humphrey meowed softly in understanding and lay on his side by the tub licking at his paws.

When Holly appeared a moment later, Chloe showed her the ruined towel with an apologetic grimace. Holly simply took it from her hands and placed it into a damp bundle in the sink. Holly then led her down the hallway to the guest room as Chloe tried and failed to fight against her fuzzy head and clouded eyes. Holly helped Chloe take her dress off and get into a cotton white nightgown that looked older than time but felt soft and perfectly worn. Holly pushed her by the shoulders into a fluffy cream colored bed, and Chloe reflexively curled onto her side facing away from Holly. The sheet and duvet tucked up around her and a cool hand ran through her hair. Chloe registered a furry, warm body tucking itself up next to her neck and burrowing into her hair. The last thing she thought before succumbing to sleep was of her mother and how much she missed her.

_____

She woke up to the sun streaming in through translucent white curtains casting a soft light on the bed and floor. Humphry was laying on her chest and appraising her through almond-shaped green eyes, tail flicking back and forth across her stomach, like he was resting there just to make sure her chest rose and fell in time.

Seeing her come awake, Humphrey mewled a hello and jumped as gracefully as an ancient arthritic cat can to the floor to stand by the open door. He looked back at her, meowed once again, and limped out of the room. Groaning, Chloe sat up, bringing her feet down to touch the sun warmed wooden floorboards and hissed in pain as she stood up, her feet still tender from walking the length of London in heels, and limped in solidarity after Humphrey.

Holly was sitting at the dining room table surrounded by various plates loaded with eggs, bacon, and veg, and Chloe’s stomach rumbled in appreciation. She waved tentatively at Holly from the threshold feeling out of place in barefeet and a nightgown, a stark contrast with the room’s crystal chandelier and thick, salmon-pink curtains. Everything in Holly’s penthouse always seemed to shine, despite its vintage dressings always making Chloe more aware of her humble upbringings and disheveled appearance.

“Good Morning, dear,” Holly greeted her,  “I wasn’t sure what you wanted, so I had William make you the works.” Humphrey sat in her lap as she put down the magazine she was thumbing through to spare Chloe a warm smile. That was another thing about Holly’s; she seemed to have servants, or some sort of help, but Chloe had neither seen nor heard them in all her time spent there which only added to Holly’s fantastical, otherworldly aura. Chloe settled into the seat across from her and poured herself a cup of tea. Balancing it delicately between her palms, Chloe feared, as she always did, that she was going to break Holly’s nice, expensive things.

“How did you sleep?” Holly asked. Chloe gingerly set her teacup back in the saucer and spread jam on a slice of golden toast.

“Well,” Chloe answered. “Thanks, again.”

“Not a problem, dear. How are your feet?”

“Tender. Sorry about your towel.” Chloe took a small bite of toast unable to meet Holly’s eye.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Holly asked. When Chloe shook her head no, Holly responded with a nod of understanding and let the subject drop.

“What would you like to do, today, Chloe?” Holly asked as she fed Humphrey a shred of bacon.

“I have to work. Wait, _I have to work_ ,” Chole shot up out of her seat knocking the chair to the side. How could she be so irresponsible?

“I called Harry and Sarah this morning informing them you were ill and would not be coming in,” Holly stated calmly and gestured for her to sit back down and finish her food.

“That was… kinder than I… thank you,” Chloe said, voice thick with emotion and unswallowed toast. She righted her chair and sank back into her seat.

“Well, there wasn’t any way I was going to allow you go to work with injured feet with little to no sleep. Besides, after the success of the gala they can spare you for a day. I’m going to take you out.”

Chloe shot back out of her seat rounding the table as fast as she could and attached herself to Holly’s frail body like an octopus trying to communicate all her relief and gratitude.

Holly patted at her back, startled and rigid. “Alright, darling. That’s quiet enough of that,” Holly detangled herself gently from Chloe’s grasp, her voice taking on the aloof tone it often did whenever emotions were involved, but when Chloe pulled back there were tears misting in Holly’s brown eyes as she shooed her away.

___

Arriving back at her flat, arms heavy with shopping bags, Chloe felt lighter than she had that morning. Holly had them driven around the poshest parts of London all day, entering and exiting various boutique shops and marbled cafes like they owned them. She’d protested again and again as Holly pushed clothes into her hands to try on, gaping at price tags, but after several sharp looks and a harsh pinch to the side in a French boutique on Savile Row she’d given up and allowed herself to be doted upon.

With one final treat in the form of a piece of chocolate Austrian Torte and a cappuccino, Holly dropped Chloe off at her building, eyeing it suspiciously as though a hooligan was going to try and carjack them at any moment.

When Chloe entered her living room, she was surprised to find an irate looking Louis sitting on the edge of her couch, elbows resting on his knees, his whole upper body bouncing in time with his legs. Chloe was _very_ aware of how she must look to him, having disappeared for almost a day and coming back with arms full of shopping bags looking rosy and happy. She stamped down her shame quickly, though and looked him squarely in the eye.

“Louis, hey,” she greeted him warmly, flashing him the best smile she could knowing Niall would hear all about this later. The better she looked the less Niall would think she was pining and miserable. Which she is and she was. Louis glared at her and rose up onto the balls of his feet, trying to make himself as large as possible.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Louis half screamed at her.

“Right, okay. Hi to you, too,” Chloe bit back at him and crossed the living room to open her bedroom door, Louis could follow her if he wanted. He did.  

“You went shopping?” he continued to bark at her, “Niall’s having the worst fucking day of his life, and you went fucking SHOPPING?” Louis’ voice was bouncing off her walls, ringing in her ears. Spinning around to face him, Chloe crossed her arms unwilling to give an inch.

“I’d hardly call this the worst day of his life. You’re always so _dramatic_ , Louis.” Chloe honestly couldn’t believe he was making this big of a fuss. She’d had the afternoon to get her head in order and was starting to believe that with some time away followed by extreme grovelling on both their parts, she and Niall might be able to salvage their friendship. Louis was acting like she’d burned Niall’s flat to the ground.

“Are you… you’re serious?” Louis blanched looking at her like he was seeing her insides for the first time and didn’t like what he found, “I know you’re hurt, but this is…” Louis trailed off. It was the first time Chloe had ever seen him with nothing to say. It was unnerving.

“Look, I get that you’re upset. I just think we need some time to figure things out, you know? I’ll still be around. I’m not going anywhere,” Chloe made her voice sound as understanding as possible hoping it would be enough to throw some cold water on the fire she’d started.

“Do you... do you know what’s going on?” Louis asked her looking more and more like he was going to burst into tears. “I left you about fifty bloody voicemails. Did you even listen to them?”

“My phone died about fifteen minutes after I left your place last night. It’s been out for the whole day. Sorry. I... I didn’t have a charger, and I thought I’d just give myself a break,” she answered honestly.

Louis’ face fell,“Chloe, oh Chloe. You don’t know.” Louis scrubbed a hand over his face. He was physically shaking and looking sorrier than she’d ever seen him.

“What?” she begged. Louis shook his head again unable to speak, tears pooling in his eyes. “Louis, _what_?” Nausea rolled through her in waves when Louis finally met her eyes again.

“Niall’s dad died.”

************************************************

_The houses had just begun to thin out, the spaces between each one getting larger and larger the farther away from central London they drove. Chloe felt like she could finally breathe again. Small bumps and vibrations in the ancient car that by some miracle was still running calmed her. It was a sort of pavlovian response for her now, so that getting in Niall’s car and closing the door was an instant relief._

_They never drove anywhere in particular or for any purpose other than to drive. Sometimes they circled London, riding by equally wealthy and working class neighborhoods, stopping for food or coffee or snacks they’d share no matter who paid for what. Niall explained to her once that he found the lack of destination relaxing, like it was the only time in his life he had control. It was completely up to him, right, left, or straight, to keep going or to stop. Chloe found it soothing because it was the only time she gave up control and let Niall take her where he wanted; it was freeing just to let go._

_"Winter or summer?" Niall broke the comfortable silence that had settled in the car like a warm, fuzzy blanket. Their drives had evolved into this, long stretches of quiet contemplation that allowed them both to think and relax without having to be alone. The change in scenery was just an added bonus. Last Tuesday, after a particularly hard day at work for both of them, they closed their mouths when the car doors shut and didn't open them again until Niall was dropping her back off at her flat._

_Chloe contemplated the question and couldn't help replying "Summer," after thinking that, on this rare balmy summer night in London, anything felt possible. She felt alive. Not in that cheesy hyperbolic way, but in the sense that she was one hundred percent out of her head and in the moment. It was rare for her, and she'd always equated this feeling with summer._

_"Why?" Niall pressed._

Everything's louder in the summer, but the world's more relaxed. Anything seems possible. _"Hot dudes take their shirts off and play sweaty games of football in the park. It's truly a beautiful thing."_

_"Can't argue with you there, Blondie." Niall was a little different in the car, less twitchy and hyper. Driving was a singular task he could focus on, a task that didn't allow his mind to run wild. His hands, eyes, and feet had places to be and jobs to do. It was the only place she'd never seen him bite his fingernails. Chloe had taken to calling it his "Vehicular Yoga"._

_They pulled up to a stop sign and Niall reached behind the seats to grab the CD holder and change out the music. Chloe didn't try to help. She had been expressly forbidden to mess with the music, and she refused to break the only rule of their drives no matter how sick of the_ Eagles _she'd become._

_Staring out onto the darkening streets, Chloe could see into the windows of the house they were stopped in front of. Golden light radiated from its interior and was spilling out onto the weed ridden lawn. A redheaded woman was pacing back and forth, visible through the wide bay window and yelling at an unseen force deeper inside the house. Her arms struck harsh poses that her long, distorted shadow replicated on the lawn. At one point the woman turned toward the window, bracing herself against it with one hand while covering her mouth with the other taking long calming breaths through her nose, her nostrils widening on each inhale. Chloe felt her heart seize up and the gears of her brain start working at a frantic paces the car lurched forward again, and the sounds of_ The 1975 _floated softly through the staticky speakers of the car. The warm summer high she'd been floating on started to leech out of her skin leaving her cold and her arms covered in goosebumps._

_"Do you ever look into people's houses?" Chloe asked._

_"What do you mean?" Niall replied, sounding earnestly interested in what she was about to say with only the ghost of a smile reaching his mouth. There were a hundred jokes he could have made at her expense and didn’t. They were always kinder and more gentle with each other in his car. Once, Niall had popped in a mixed CD that he’d admitted he didn’t remember what he'd burned on it. When "A Whole New World" came on and he'd not only know all the words but shamelessly sang Jasmine's part start to finish in a near perfect impression, Chloe didn't laugh once. Instead, she'd sang Aladdin's part, harmonies and all. They never brought it up again._

_"When you're driving, do you ever look into the windows of the houses going by, or in the cars of the other people on the road and just realize that they're people living their lives? Actual people that you'll never know or meet and they're just acting out these little dramas completely separate from yours?" When she glanced at Niall he didn't respond, so she continued._

_"When I was a kid the world seemed so small. It didn't even register in my tiny kid brain that there were other people around, it just didn't matter. Everything felt comfortable and nothing would ever change and that was okay. But then you grow up and you realize how completely untrue that is. Things change, people leave, and nothing lasts forever. And while you spent your time clinging to that lie, you’ve missed out on other people you’ll never know and places you’ll never visit. You grow up and realize the world's too big, so you continue to cling to the things you know. It’s this endless cycle, and one day you wake up and realize you don’t have anything because nothing remains the same and no one can stay forever.”_

_Niall glanced at her to show he was listening but said nothing._

_"It’s just that sometimes when I really take the time to look outside my little life, my friends and work, I’m terrified that I’ve made the wrong decisions, that I’m in the wrong place, that I’ve invested in all the wrong people. And that scares me so, so much that I just cling harder to what I already have that I don't work for new relationships and memories that one day that will all be gone and I’ll have nothing."_

_These were thoughts she had often after her mother died._

_“Maybe what I’m trying to say is that so many people wake up one day and find themselves completely alone, but maybe they wouldn’t be if they just tried harder. Were better.”_

_Moments dragged by with no response from Niall. Chloe suddenly wanted to be alone in bed._

_"There's this really cool house around the corner from work," Niall said, "And Ed, you know, the guy who’s EP I played on who used to work with me?” Chloe nodded, so he continued, “Ed was just obsessed with that stupid house. He'd walk by it on his way in for his shifts, go out of his way to see it. It has this huge midnight blue door, and the knob is right in the middle of it instead of on the side and the windows are all circular. To be honest, it really is interesting, but Ed couldn’t let it go. He was drawn to it or something, and when he'd take his breaks he'd go sit across from it, like he was studying it or waiting for something spectacular to happen. Like Jesus himself would walk out one day and invite him in. We all gave him so much shit for it. I mean, Ed's always been a bit quirky, but his obsession with this house..." Niall trailed off laughing._

_"So anyway," he continued, "One day, Ed puts up these posters for a new drummer, right? So we can record the demo. And, like, not even really in Soho, you know, wanting to keep work separate from his music and he eventually gets this call from a guy named Josh to get together and talk about playing for him." Chloe nodded. "So Ed and Josh get together at this dingy coffee shop, and they hit it off immediately. Ed gets so excited that he wants to hear Josh play right away, hoping to God that he's good. And Josh tells him he lives right around the corner..." Niall trails off, giving Chloe a giant shit-eating grin._

_"No way!" She yells, "You're making this up!" Chloe simultaneously felt giddy at the outcome of the story and a little silly for getting so happy about it._

_"Yes way! Ed told me he remembers turning onto the street of the house with the blue door, and he just knew. He just knew that Josh lived there, and he wasn't even surprised when he found himself face to face with the blue door and that centered door knob." He drummed his hands excitedly on the wheel like Niall was the one hearing the story for the first time, not Chloe. "And that's where they recorded the demo that got Ed out of the guitar shop and into paying gigs. It's the apartment where he met Polly last New Years and fell in love..." Niall trailed off, suddenly lost in thought._

_"I don't know why but I find that overwhelmingly comforting," Chloe said a long moment later._

_"Right?" Niall agreed, "I'm not saying don't put yourself out there or try new things or whatever. Meeting new people and exploring new places are both important but," he paused, "Maybe we're just supposed to meet who we meet and go where we go and we don't have to worry about the rest?"_

_"Like fate?" she asked him._

_"Mmm, maybe, yeah, like fate," Niall replied._

_Chloe rested her head against the window feeling her anxiety melt away again, the zen of their ride restored._

_They didn't speak again for the rest of the drive._

******************************************************

Taking three calming breaths to muster up all her courage, Chloe rapped on the worn door of Niall’s childhood bedroom.

“Ni. Niall, it’s me. I’m here.” She heard some shuffling behind the door but no response. “So yeah, I’m here. Obviously. I didn’t know if you’d want me to come. Louis insisted, really. And I wanted to come, too.” More shuffling. Then more silence.

“I’m going to come in. Unless you don’t want me to. Just say something and I won’t come in. It won’t make me upset or anything, whatever you need. I’ll go away, and you won’t have to see me.” Chloe gave him more than a minute to respond. “Okay, I’m coming in.”

The door didn’t open easily. It was stuck, wedged at the top because the foundation of the house was crooked. Upon arrival in Mullingar, Ireland everything seemed small, quaint, and at least two hundred years old. It was charming, but rundown and distinctly working class. Niall’s old house was no different, a two bedroom, creaky whitewashed structure squashed in between dozens that looked just like it. Everything was clean, and put in it’s place, but the furniture was mismatched and worn, the paint peeling and the stairs creaked in protest like they’d give out at any moment.

Eventually, Chloe got the door to budge after pushing hard with her foot. She almost fell into the room. So it wasn’t the quiet, subdued, and mournful entrance Niall deserved. _Niall._ He was sitting on a small bed placed against the wall under a smudged window, his back on the wall and knees up to his chest. He looked small. He looked breakable. He looked tired.

Chloe wished she was bigger, taller, stronger, so she could hide him behind a solid wall of protection and never let anything bad happen to him ever again. Not looking up at her, he was flexing and unflexing his fists rhythmically. Chloe shut the door behind her, with some force, and took three tentative steps into the room to crawl up onto the bed and back up to the wall so they were sitting side by side without touching. She let her legs extend the length of the mattress, her feet dangled off the edge.  

They sat in silence. Chloe allowed time for him to say whatever he wanted in his own time. Or not. She remembered at her mother's wake, everyone saying these terribly nice things to her about how sorry they were, how if she needed anything they were there. The worst was when they told her they’d pray for her. She had hated it and vowed to never put someone else in the position of saying “thank you” to that. So they sat side by side in silence.

“Me mum’s here,” Niall finally said. His voice was rough, like he sometimes sounded after a long afternoon of footie in the park. _God_ , and he was so pale. Chloe worried for a second that he might be getting sick and she stopped herself from feeling his face for any trace of a fever.

“Your brother told me,” Chloe answered, knowing it was a shock to both Horan boys, neither of them thinking their mom would show up, neither of them wanting her to in the first place.

“I _really_ don’t want her here,” he said, voice cracking. Chloe thought he might have started crying. She didn’t dare turn her head to check.

“I know,” Chloe whispered. “Have you slept?” she asked, knowing how hard it was for him to sleep in general; the past few days must have been torture. She could see him shake his head no in her periphery.

“Will you lay down with me?” Niall sounded so unsure that it broke Chloe’s heart. If he was feeling even a fraction of her uncertainty about their relationship, he must be reeling. She hated that that he would ever think she would say no to him.

She stood up and saw Niall’s face fall for a brief second until he realized she had so she could situate herself on her back, head up by the window. Once she was settled, he layed down beside her, back to the wall, on his side, arm thrown over her stomach and clutching hard onto her waist just below the ribs. He rested his head on her shoulder, forehead pressed against her neck as she ran her fingers through his messy hair. He was asleep in minutes, breath calm and shallow.  

Chloe was so relieved she could cry. After Louis told her about Bobby, they collapsed in her bed and shared a long cry together, staring up at the ceiling letting the tears fall down the sides of their faces and into their hair and her pillows. He informed her that Rosie and Liam had gone out to the airport together with Niall, shoving him onto the first plane out first class, thanks to Liam’s giant bank account and even bigger heart, and followed him flying standby not two hours later. Louis made the decision to stay behind, waiting so Chloe and he could go together as soon as he gave her a proper yelling at for disappearing.

She’d protested then, insisting Niall wouldn’t want her there, that the last person on the _planet_ he’d want to see at his saint of a father’s funeral was his ex best friend who’d called him terrible things and then fucking left. But Louis was adamant. He’d already sorted things with Harry and her work, and he wasn’t going without Chloe. It was a cheap trick because who was she to deprive Niall of Louis when he’d need him most. What actually convinced her to go though was when she plugged her phone in to charge. She had no less than fifty-seven voicemails, most from Louis, some from Harry, Rosie, and one single notification from Niall. It was the only one she listed to. He didn’t even talk; it was just the sounds of ragged breathing and and airport terminal faintly behind that. So she decided to take her chances in Ireland, promising herself that if Niall didn’t want her there, she’d spend the whole time in the room Louis had arranged for them. Whatever Niall needed.

She must have drifted off too at some point because she woke up spooning Niall into the wall breathing out in gentle puffs against his neck with something tugging on her foot. She lifted her head up slowly, careful not to wake Niall, to blink at Louis who was jerking his head towards the door. Carefully detaching herself from Niall’s back, she grabbed a blanket from the edge of the bed and draped it over him, feet to neck, willing him to keep sleeping.

They crept out of the room, down the groaning stairs, and through the crowded kitchen full of relatives and friends drinking, cooking, and murmuring quietly to each other, and out the back door.

Louis pulled cigarettes out of his back pocket and placed one between his teeth. Chloe made a face at him.

“Give me a break, love. It’s been a rough couple of days,” Louis defended as he lit up and took a deep breath of smoke.

“What’s up?” Chloe asked, knowing Louis wouldn’t have pulled her away from Niall if it wasn’t urgent.

“Right.” He took another long drag of his cigarette and blew it out his nose, “I want to run into town and buy a suit for Niall. His is too small. You should come. I need your opinion and shit.” Fucking Louis Tomlinson. Shifting from foot to foot with nervous energy, she knew he hated being called out for his soft heart always desperate for people to see him as this glib, sarcastic badass. Chloe knew better; he was the boy who bought his best friend suits he couldn’t afford and cried at _Grease. Grease!_

“Sure. We can split it,” Chloe said, and Louis flashed her a crinkly eyed smile. He took one last drag from his cigarette, looped his arm through hers, and they set off into town together.

_____

They returned two hours later walking the streets through the dark, getting lost twice on the way back. All the houses looked the same, white with green accents on winding streets.

The kitchen had cleared out of mourners, leaving only Liam and Rosie who were washing dishes and putting half eaten trays of food back in the fridge. Louis gingerly placed the garment bag carrying Niall’s new suit, shirt, and tie over one of the kitchen chairs and collapsed into another one.

“Where’d everyone go?” Chloe asked.

“They migrated to a pub. Everyone was getting pretty drunk here, so Greg took them out. He wanted Niall to keep sleeping,” Liam answered as he dried a dish Rosie handed him.

“So he’s still asleep, then?” she asked hopefully.

“Yeah, I checked on him a bit ago. He’s out like a light.” Liam gestured with a soapy hand towards the garment bag, “What’s that?”

“For Niall, for tomorrow. He didn’t have a proper suit,” Louis answered running his hand down his face and rubbing at his drooping eyes like a sleepy kitten.  

“Lou, you know I would have done that-” Liam began.

“Drop it, Li,” Louis threw back. “I wanted to do it,” Liam held his gaze for a moment more, “Chloe helped,” Louis added, and that seemed to satisfy Liam enough to let it go.

The four of them settled into a companionable silence, only the soft sloshing of dishwater and clacking together of plates keeping them awake. Louis pulled out his phone after a couple of minutes and began furiously texting.  Catching Chloe’s eye, he mouthed, “Harry”. Chloe had, of course, forgotten her promise to keep him up to date. She should really be better at this whole grief thing.  

The sound of slow footsteps on stairs alerted them that Niall was awake. Chloe’s stomach dropped. It would be easier on him if he slept through the night. He would need the rest for tomorrow. They all exchanged worried glances but tried their best to look as casual as possible in their respective positions around the kitchen. The last thing Niall needed was to be gawked at and fawned over. It would only serve as a reminder that his dad was dead.

When he finally emerged from the stairs looking glassy eyed and pink cheeked, Chloe smiled at him. He returned it on reflex, but it barely reached his eyes.

“Are you hungry, love?” Rosie asked immediately drying her hands off and going for the fridge. “There’s a ton of food. Just let me know what you want.” He shrugged and came to sit in the empty chair at the table between Chloe and Louis, who threw an arm around him and patted him on the back. Niall spotted the garment bag and gave Louis a pointed look.

“You didn’t actually-”

“Chloe helped,” Louis replied. Niall nodded his head and his eyes watered, but he was saved from having to discuss it when Rosie placed a large plate of cold cuts, cheese, and bread in front of him as Liam poured them all a generous glass of whiskey. Louis moved the suit to the living room so Liam could sit down and gather Rosie in his lap. Once they were all settled Louis raised his glass in a wordless toast.

Chloe’s vision blurred as they all raised their glasses to meet his, the mismatched cups pinging together. Niall was crying again, tears trickling down his face as he made an attempt to eat the food in front of him.

Time passed by strangely for a while. The five of them quietly drank while Niall ate and cried and wiped his face and nose on his shirt sleeves until Chloe thought to get him a napkin. Rosie cleared the plate away when he was finished, and Liam continuously refilled their glasses. It took almost no time for Chloe to grow flushed and tipsy, and she felt her resolve crumbling, her strength giving out leaving only a familiar throbbing ache behind her ribs clawing to get out.

Resting his head on crossed arms, he faced her. Niall’s eyes were asking her for something, pleading. Unsure of what he wanted, she nudged her chair closer to run her fingers through his hair. It usually calmed him down, and she was the only one he ever let touch his hair.

“I recognize the kitchen,” Chloe said breaking the silence. Niall’s eyes that had drifted shut opened again to look at hers, eyebrows furrowed, the corners of his mouth downturned.

“Your dad sent me a picture of you after he got back from London. The one with your stolen pet lamb on the floor. Right over there.” She gestured to the space in front of the kitchen sink. Chloe had begged Bobby to send her a picture of “The Red Power Ranger” so she could bust it out at the just the right time, and it was better than she could have hoped for. Niall’s baby face and bright, blue eyes looking up tearfully into the camera clutching a distressed snow white lamb popped into her inbox a day after Niall’s dad left London. The subject line read _“go easy on him”_.  She’d saved it to her phone immediately.

“He told you that story?” Niall asked lifting his head out of his arms and knocking Chloe’s hand out of his hair. He didn’t seem angry, but the story didn’t have the positive effect she’d hoped it would. Niall pushed his chair away from the table looking so defeated and raw and wrecked that she was sorry she brought it up.

“It’s sweet, Niall,” Louis added. Niall shot up out of his chair and began pacing back and forth as much as he could in the cramped space of the kitchen looking ready for a fight but also like he’d crumble at the first fist thrown.

“Bet he didn’t tell you the whole story, did he?” Niall asked no one in particular, like he was talking to himself. Chloe was terrified he was on the verge of a panic attack.

“Yeah, you had to give it back,” Chloe said, trying to sound sympathetic.

“No, the part about how he took me to that fucking farm every Friday after school so I could see it. We would walk to the store and my dad would spend some of what little money we had on alfalfa so I could feed him. He sweet talked Mr. Blake so I could.” Niall had stopped pacing and was gripping onto the sink and monologuing to the wall.

“And then it died,” he stuttered on the last word like it was physically painful to say. “It got sick and died, and my dad dug a hole for it in the backyard even though we didn’t have the body to bury. He bought flowers we couldn’t afford, and we buried those instead.” Chloe registered the sound of her tears plopping on the table.

“No, he wouldn’t tell you that part of the story because that’s the kind of person he is. Was. Fuck. Now he’s dead. He’s dead because he was picking something up for Theo, and now he’s dead.” She heard something crash and shatter. Looking up she saw that Niall had picked up a drying plate from the rack and thrown it on the floor.  

Chloe frantically looked at the faces of her friends frozen in tableau. She felt so sorry and heartbroken and wished she was less broken herself so she could fix it. She stared at Louis, whose father left when he was just two weeks old and never looked back. Liam, who was steadily crying, whose own father had died not two years ago, looked helpless. And Rosie, sweet Rosie, who, on one of their boozy roommate bonding nights told her how she was adopted and ran away when she was eighteen to find her birth mom who rejected her so cruelly that when she went back home it took her a week to get out of bed.

Niall whose dad went out for formula for his grandson three days ago and was hit by a car crossing the street and died instantly. Niall, whose mom left when he was nine.

And Chloe who, when riding her bike home two days after she turned sixteen saw an ambulance and cop cars lining her driveway and street. Saw her father rocking back and forth on the front porch as the paramedics took her mom out in a closed bag, wheeling her into the back of their vehicle with a lack of urgency that could only mean there was nothing left to be done.  Chloe, whose mother’s death blew a mortar shell inside of her, leaving a gaping, hollow hole that still ached every day like it was the first.

How could any of them ever begin to help?

“Why did it have to be him?” Niall asked, truly asked seeking answers that were impossible to find. When the only answers he received were blank stares and watery eyes he turned away, opened the back door, and disappeared out into the night.

Chloe stood up from her chair so quickly it fell over, crossed the room, and kneeled down by the broken shards of the plate and began picking them up off the floor.  

“Chloe,” someone, maybe Liam, said her name. “Chloe, stop it.” But she didn’t stop, just kept picking up the jagged pieces of the dish. “CHLOE.” Someone’s hand was on her wrist and squeezed hard enough that she dropped the broken glass back on the floor. Strong hands picked her up under the armpits and someone else was running warm water in the sink, gently unclenching her fists to run her palms under the water trying to get the remaining slivers of glass off of her skin.

She let herself be dried off and led back upstairs to Niall’s room, stripped of her shoes, laid out on the bed, and covered by a blanket.

It was so like one of her earliest memories. One night she had been carried from the car half asleep by her father up the stairs of their house and into her bedroom. Chloe had pretended, rather poorly, that she was sleeping. Her parents took off her shoes and clothes and dressed her in her pj’s. By the time they tucked her into bed they were all three giggling, her parents indulging her desire to feign sleep, moving her about dramatically like a puppet as they maneuvered her into bed and kissed her cheeks till she gasped awake faking surprise at how she came to be there. Even as a child, she recognized the feeling of safety and love; she felt special and looked after.

Now she was being tucked away by her friends as she cried so hard her ribcage trembled.

Niall came back sometime in the early morning Chloe judged by the grey light that peaked through the window. He smelled sour like drink and salty like grief. Nudging her over a bit on the bed, Niall and Chloe wrapped around each other, legs tangled, and faces inches apart.

They fell asleep breathing in each other’s air. In and out, out and in.

 


	7. Chapter 7

 

 

_[Some Recommended Listening ](https://open.spotify.com/user/1260911781/playlist/4DauD18SbvViq0Zrmm4sdZ) _

 

_***_ **_Please read:_ ** _Trigger Warning; non graphic mentions of suicide of a minor character, manic depressive behavior of a minor character. These are all described in non graphic terms but please message me if you want to skip the later part of the chapter and I will give you a summary.***_

For the whole service, Chloe stared at the back of Niall’s head wishing she could sit next to him so she could wrap her arms around him protectively and glare at his mother who had the gall to sit with the family in the first pew. Instead, Chloe was six rows back clutching Louis’ hand to prevent herself from getting up and ordering Maura out of the service and Mullingar and the northern hemisphere.  

Rosie had been talking her down since they arrived at the church and Chloe saw Maura dabbing her eyes with tissues and accepting condolences like a kid accepts gifts on Christmas morning, milking the attention for all its worth. In a deep corner of the rational part of her brain, Chloe knew Marua deserved to grieve like everyone else. But she had hurt Niall, and Chloe was coming to accept that she had no limits to what she’d do to protect him. She was out for blood today, and Niall’s absent mother seemed the perfect target for her white-hot anger.

 

 

So the service continued. Chloe barely paid attention, so it came as a surprise when it was time to carry the casket out of the church. Niall made his way to the front with Greg and a half dozen other men. He looked sharp in his new suit, and Chloe had done his hair at his request, but his eyes were tired and vacant. The men walked slowly together and carried the man that had been Bobby Horan out of the church. Niall looked like he was going to collapse. Chloe knew he had to do this, had to stand at the front of the polished oaken box to bury his father, to say goodbye, but she wished she could carry him to let him know he wasn’t alone. Just so he knew she loved him.

But she couldn’t. So she buried her head into Louis’s shoulder and cried quietly instead.

___

They held the reception on the lawn adjacent to the ancient church. It was a gorgeous day, sunny and warm, a slight breeze blowing through the sparse trees. The weather apparently didn’t get the memo that the day was one of the more miserable ones Mullingar would ever see. The whole town showed up for the service, it seemed. Some had brought their instruments and were playing melancholy folk songs as people milled around and ate food off of paper plates.

They took turns looking after Niall and tried not to overwhelm him. Chloe made herself useful by watching Theo for Greg, whose grief manifested itself in an entirely different way than Niall’s. Where Niall had shut down, barely responded when you talked to him, Greg made a point to talk to every person who’d come like he was trying to stave off his own sadness by asking everyone else about theirs.

Theo gave her something to do that felt useful other than watching Niall’s every move, all his twitching and tears, like she could do something, anything about it. And anyway she liked babies, and they liked her. They were always fascinated by her hair and would grab for it to watch the blonde curls spring down and back up when pulled. It’s what he was doing now, squealing in delight every time he let go of a loose lock. Distracted by Theo’s giggles, Chloe didn’t notice when Niall sagged down into the empty chair next to hers with a plate full of food he pushed over to her.

“You haven’t eaten anything all day,” Niall said as he reached over to rub the soft golden baby hairs on his nephew’s forehead. The baby babbled up at him, pulling at his finger and sticking it into his mouth. Niall smiled for the first time all day and it relieved the ache in her chest a fraction.

“I’m okay. M’not hungry,” she replied.

“When you’re stressed you don’t eat. You need to eat,” Niall said a little firmer leaving no room for negotiation. He took the baby from her lap and pushed a plastic fork her way. He wasn’t wrong; when she was upset or stressed, her stomach would sit in knots killing any trace of an appetite. She picked up the fork and took small bites to placate Niall despite her nausea. Satisfied, he nodded his head and focused on entertaining Theo.

“Ni, you need to support his head,” she said after a moment of watching Niall hold him awkwardly as his head fell back, still too young and weak to hold it up on his own.

He laughed bitterly, “I don’t even know how to hold my own nephew.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Not good with babies,” he said as he situated the baby in his arms to support his head against his forearm. Theo beamed up at him once again and continued babbling and blowing bubbles through lips.

“Lies,” Chloe said, and Niall relented with another weak smile. She continued to pick at her food as they sat in silence, and Niall looked at her occasionally in satisfaction.

“Can I hold him?” someone was standing next to Niall, backlit by the sun, so it took Chloe a moment to realize it was Maura holding her arms out expectantly at the baby.

Niall flinched back crushing his nephew to his chest. “No, you can’t hold him.”

Chloe hadn’t been with Niall constantly since she arrived so she couldn't be sure,  but she wouldn’t be surprised if those were the first words he’d said to his mother since she’d arrived uninvited and unannounced.

“Niall, he’s my grandbaby,” Maura said, a challenging edge in her voice that only a mother can master. How _dare_ she talk to Niall like that? As if she had any motherly authority over him. Chloe wanted to stand up and physically wedge herself between them, but it wasn’t her place. Instead she placed a reassuring hand on Niall’s shoulder and squeezed.

“No, no he’s really not,” Niall spat back, handing Theo over to Chloe gingerly a direct contrast to his sharp voice.

“That’s not fair,” she said and placed her hand over her heart like he’d stabbed her.

“Not fair?” Niall said back, his voice raised almost to a yell. “Not fair? You know what’s not fair, _Maura_? My dad died. He’s dead! And you have the gall to show up here like it means something to you. Did you think were going to be one big happy family again? Did you think you’d use my father’s death to manipulate your way back into our lives?”

Theo started to cry and the musicians stopped playing. All eyes were on the three of them. Niall red faced and panicked, Maura looking abashed and heartbroken, Chloe rocking the the baby back and forth summoning all her restraint to keep from getting involved.

“Niall,” his mom begged him looking sorrier than Chloe had ever seen someone, and for a second she saw a glimpse of a genuine, earnest hope that Niall might forgive her.  That things could be made right again.

“You made your choice,” he interrupted. “You should have stayed away! You’re not his grandmother, and you’re _not_ my mom.” With that, he seemed to be done, so he pushed past them both, weaving through clusters of guests all trying to calm him down, to stop him on his way out. But he was faster, more determined, and angry, and he managed to slip out of the churchyard and out of sight.

_____

Niall was in the first place Chloe looked for him; his childhood bedroom, shoving his clothes frantically into a worn duffel. He’d managed to change out of his suit and into some loose sweatpants and a tee shirt, looking more himself, but still incredibly fragile and tired. Chloe watched him from the doorframe for a moment before speaking, observing that even in the throes of misery, he was the most beautiful person she’d ever seen.

“I don’t want to tell you what to do,” she finally said, evenly. Niall whipped around to look at her, huffed in annoyance, and went back to trying to close the zipper on his overloaded bag, “but I really don’t think you should leave right now.”

“It’s done. I have to meet Ed in Manchester the day after tomorrow anyway.” Right. Their tour. In the rush of everything, she’d forgotten that he really was leaving. Knowing this might be the last time she was going to see him in a while, she felt bold and brave. Nothing she could say or do would make it worse than it already was between them.

“What about Greg?” She asked. He paused for a moment like he hadn’t considered it and rubbed his bloodshot eyes.

“He’ll be fine. He has the baby. He has his wife,” _and I have nothing_. It was unspoken, but the implied sentiment hung in the air between them. Chloe wanted to open up her chest so he could see that his name was written all over her insides like a brand.

The zipper still wouldn’t close.

“FUCK!” Niall shouted and threw the duffel by its strap across the tiny room. Clothes and shoes flew across the floor, and Chloe was reminded of the little boy’s room in Holly’s house.

Niall began pacing the short length of the room like a caged tiger.

“Ni,-”

“I used to pack a bag and wait for her to come back.” He’d stopped moving and and stood in the middle of the room, fists clenched, chest heaving, looking at nothing in particular. “I thought she’d gone ahead to make a new home for us or something. So fucking stupid. I had this spiderman backpack, and I would sit out front and wait for her.” Chloe was crying again because she understood more than anyone how it felt to be left and not understand why. 

The truth came pouring out of her before she could stop it.

“My mom killed herself,” the words came out blubbery and slurred, and it was possible that Niall didn’t even understand what she said.

“No.” Niall snapped his head to finally look her in the eyes as he shook his head at her in disbelief. She nodded at him registering that he was the first person in her life she’d ever told willingly. A secret she’d kept to herself for years. A secret so locked away she sometimes wondered if it were real, or if it were merely something sad she’d read once in a book. Fictional heroines always had tragic beginnings, but Chloe felt far from a hero. She just felt tired.

Crossing the room to sit on the bed, she continued, unable to stop herself now. “She didn’t even leave a note, but I know it wasn’t an accident.” Niall followed her and sat on the floor by her feet leaning his head against her knee like a child. What a pair they made. “But I understand,” she said, “I understand what it’s like to be left.”

Chloe had learned at a young age that there were people worth living for, worth fighting for. She just didn’t happen to be one of them.

“I’m just like her,” Niall breathed against her leg.

“No, you’re not,” she said back, tone firm even though she couldn’t tell if he was talking about his mom or her’s. He nodded without looking up to her.

“You know I am. Because I’m leaving,” he met her eyes, his own glassy and intense. Everything felt final, and this moment was too big to be having on a twin bed in this tiny room. “After this, I’m leaving.”

And then he kissed her. He surged up from his knees to grab both sides of her face and pressed his lips against hers so hard it hurt. If this was goodbye, she thought, they had better do it right.

She parted her knees, an invitation for him to push her back against the bed and settled between her thighs. The black dress she was wearing fell up to her belly button and Niall grabbed behind her knees to wrap her legs around his waist running his hands up and down the smooth, soft length of them. He was looking directly at her as she traced the outline of his dewy mouth with her thumb and grabbed the collar of his tee shirt to pull him back to down in a kiss. He brought one hand up to cup at her neck and ran his thumb across the outline of her jaw.

Rolling his hips experimentally against hers, they gasped into each other’s mouths, still kissing frantically. Chloe was the least afraid of him she’d ever been. Biting at his lips she realized she’d spent half their time together wanting this, and the other half terrified he’d leave her if it ever happened. Knowing now it was inevitable, knowing she’d actually lost him the first time they’d kissed in that hotel room a lifetime ago, she decided now to take and take and take so she’d always have the memory of how he tasted like whiskey and bitter chocolate and how he felt above her. So solid, and comforting. It was the end, and it was better than her most vivid fantasies.

She pushed at his stomach to gain some space between their bodies to she could slip her hand under his joggers to grasp the hardening length of him. Startled he yanked her hair and bit down hard on her neck as she stroked him. Chloe felt giddy and drunk on the sounds he made against her neck, she relished them memorizing how they sounded so she’d never forget. When she tried to speed up he jerked back and yanked her arm away shaking his head.

“I’ll come.”

She grabbed the back of his arms, and in a surprising show of strength, she flipped him around on his back. Before he had time to register what she was doing, she ripped his pants and briefs down. “Good,” she said before she bent down the bed and took him in her mouth. She watched him as she sucked from behind her eyelashes, proud of what how she was effecting him. His hands were clenched in the sheets head thrown back making the most beautiful, throaty sounds as she took him to the back of her throat and swallowed. He came beautifully, flushed and blissed out. She rested her cheek against his hip and rubbed at his thighs as he came down.

He ran his fingers through her hair and tugged lightly on the end strands to get her to look up at him. Bringing her chin up to her elbow she allowed him to study her face with the pads of his fingertips. They gently traced over her eyebrows and cheekbones, his pointer finger ran the length of her nose several times like he was trying to commit her to memory so he could draw her with his eyes closed if asked.

“Off,” he commanded tugging at the sleeve of her dress. She complied but only after coming up onto her knees and straddling him, tugging it over her head slowly, leaving her in only her underwear.

It was then that he saw it. The necklace he’d given her, the dress’ modest neckline had hidden it, but there it rested, just below her clavicles, silver and pretty. Niall surged up to rest his forehead on her sternum as he unclasped her bra and threw it across the room. He mouthed at her breasts then each of her shoulders, taking his time and winding her up slowly, like he had no other plans for the day but driving her out of her mind.

It was his turn to spin her around on her back, and he grinned wolfishly down at her. Chloe wanted the image of him above her, looking like he was going to tear her apart tattooed on the inside of her eyelids. He took his time with her underwear pulling them down her legs with one hand on her belly holding her still, which was good because he hadn’t touched her yet, and she felt like she was flying apart.

When he finally get his mouth on her, it was the first time she said his name, like a prayer, and Chloe didn’t stop staying it as he placed her legs over his shoulders holding her open at the thighs with his hands. When his fingers entered her, she clapped her hands over her face to muffle her yelp suddenly very aware of how loud she was being. But she couldn’t stop, so she just babbled into her palms as she came on his mouth and fingers. He didn’t stop until she asked him to.

“Please, inside me, please,” was what she managed after a moment. He nodded his head and came back up to her face to kiss her for several long minutes slipping his fingers back inside. “Niall, please,” she begged again, so he finally got up and crossed the room to rifle through the side pocket of his duffel to bring out his wallet grabbing a condom and kneeling back on the bed, fully hard again, and looking a little lost. Last time she’d stopped him.

“God, please,” she begged once more. He reached under her back and flipped her over on her stomach and she stretched her hands over her head as she hummed into the pillow listening to him rip open the foil of the condom. He grabbed at the inside of her right thigh gently bending her leg up and placing it to the side, opening her up as he clasped his hand back around her throat possessively, but so, so gently, and slipped inside of her.

He twisted her head around to look at him as she arched her back and thrust back to meet him every time, electricity zinging up and down her spine every time their bodies crashed together.

“God, Chloe,” he said before he kissed her mouth, temple, cheek, and pushed her down by the shoulder to drive into her harder and faster. She dipped her head down to rest on the bed to the side so could watch him draped above her. His eyes were so blue, sweat was dripping down his face and onto her back and she was pleased at that, wanting to smell like him afterwards, proof that this wasn’t just a dream. It had never been like this, not for her. She had never felt so reckless yet taken care of during sex before. It was intoxicating, and she let herself admit as Niall moved his hand from her throat to her bent leg that it was probably because she’d never been in love before. Not like this.

“M’close,” he warned her, his voice wrecked, and brought the hand he had fisted onto the mattress beside her down around her body to rub at her, sending her over the edge for a second time, sensitive and throbbing she almost pushed him out as she came but he pinned her to the mattress and three thrusts later he followed with a bite to her shoulder blade and a muffled cry of her name.

After taking care of the condom, he enveloped her in his arms as she drifted off to sleep, Niall pressing soft kisses into whatever skin he could find.

___

Chloe woke as the sun was just setting and lighting up the room in pinks and golds washing them in bright light and threw long shadows across the floor. She found Niall awake, watching her as he ran his hands down her back and into the dip of her waist. She could hear people downstairs and remembered that Niall buried his father today, that the world existed beyond them and this room; that the earth continued to spin outside the circle of his arms tight around her. And after he left for Manchester the world would keep going, her life would continue much as it had before. But for now he was in front of her intently watching her face as he dipped his fingers back inside of her still wet and sensitive.

When she rode him her mind was blissfully blank and as she came she wished they could live in that room for forever, sharing their scars and secrets on that cramped bed. As she fell back asleep it was to Niall adjusting her necklace so it lay perfectly center on her chest.

__

When she woke up again the room was dark and she was alone. Niall’s clothes and duffle were gone leaving no trace he was ever there. Only the ache in her heart and the bruises on her neck and thighs were proof he’d ever been there, that they’d ever known each other.

As she moved around the room and gathered up her clothes she was already tucking Niall up inside of herself for safekeeping, a fond memory to take out and admire on a rainy day. Already knowing that one day the loss of him wouldn’t be so acutely crippling. That one day she’d smile fondly over the radiant boy she’d fallen so recklessly in love with.

As she snuck out of his house she said a final, silent goodbye and, just like at her mother’s funeral, she didn’t even cry.

_______

Weeks went by before Chloe got angry.

When she got back to London, Chloe threw herself back into work. Every night she found it impossible to sleep, so she’d rise early with the sun, grab a coffee on the way in and arrive at her desk in the empty, dark office. As a result she started to finish her required work well before lunch and therefore had begun drafting ideas for new projects, events, and fundraising ideas that started to drive Sarah and Harry crazy as they grew more elaborate.  When her requests for new projects were denied, mostly because they didn’t have the budget to host a three day music festival headlined by _The Rolling Stones_ , she reorganized all the office files which caused such chaos in accounting that she’d been permanently banned from any file cabinets that weren’t located at her immediate desk.

She found other ways to keep busy.

Chloe dragged her friends all over London claiming to be upset that she’d lived there for months and still hadn’t been in the London Eye or seen the crown jewels. Louis made such a fuss the day she convinced him to accompany her to The British Museum that he got them kicked out after he got too close to a Hellenistic bust. They ended up getting drunk over pints and chips instead.

So Harry became her companion on her exploratory trips as Rosie, now back at Uni, was barely at home, Liam traveled more than ever, and Louis was an absolute menace. Plus, Harry seemed genuinely interested in coming with, and therefore made excellent company. Also, he didn’t push, never asked her about her feelings or Niall or why she would spend ten hours a day at work and had permanent dark purple bruises under her eyes. She caught him staring at her often, worry etched into the crease between his eyebrows, but he never questioned her and more often than not had begun bringing extra chocolate and baked goods for their lunches

Really, she was fine.

But she couldn’t sleep. Most nights she would lay in bed and stare at her ceiling. Sometimes she’d migrate to the sofa and turn on whatever game was on because it reminded her of the times she’d spent with her cheek on Niall’s chest and had fallen asleep to the rhythm of his shallow breaths as the glow of the tv danced against her closed eyes. The weather turned colder, but she would still sit out on the back porch and drink the beers Niall had bought then forgotten in their fridge. Chloe told herself it was so they wouldn’t go to waste and ignored the fact that the smell of Smithwick’s reminded her of his laugh and how red his face would get after downing four or five.

Things were stagnant.

Chloe spent more and more time with Holly. They shopped and had tea, and Chloe would spend damp cold Sunday afternoons curled up on the parlor couch with Humphrey in her lap as Holly would orate long stories about holidays she and her husband had taken. Chloe would shut her eyes and picture herself on the warm, white sands of Mexico or the jungles of Thailand. More often than not, Holly said or did something that was so colorfully humorous that Chloe longed to share it with someone. Niall. Her fingers itched for her phone, and she’d have to stamp out the urge to call or text him a picture of Humphrey.

So Chloe found distractions.

Some nights Chloe let Rosie use her body to practice her draping and pinning for class. She would stand on a stool and they’d chat about little, inconsequential things like the boy in Rosie’s fashion merchandising class who did the most elaborate nail art she’d ever seen or how Chloe discovered a new bakery with the best scones she’d found in London. Chloe knew it was a purposeful distraction because one night Rosie came home to find Chloe had reorganized all the food in their kitchen by color and all the cosmetics in the bathroom in alphabetical order. At the moment Rosie entered, Chloe was in the middle of dragging their couch across the floor rearranging the living room so the sofa no longer faced the tv and the coffee table was so close to the hallway Rosie had to climb over it just to get in.

Slowly she was drowning.

Weeks passed before she went near any form of social media. There were bound to be pictures of the tour all over instagram and facebook. One night she’d shown up at Louis’ unannounced with some Indian takeaway and beer and placing the items on the kitchen table she caught a glimpse of Niall on Louis’ open facebook. Louis slammed the top of his laptop down after he saw her staring at the bright screen, but the damage was done. On the screen a picture of Niall in a generic looking pub, hair wet with sweat his arm around Ed and a nameless blonde, mouth open and eyes wide flashing the camera a peace sign, mocked her. He looked tired. Chloe spent the remainder of the night restless and fidgety,  peeled all the labels off her beer, and tried to pick a fight with Louis over the messy state of his flat, bait which he thankfully didn’t take.

So she stopped opening apps on her phone and never cracked open her computer, unwilling to feed the aching loneliness that scraped at her insides leaving them raw. Sometimes she’d squeeze her eyes shut and clench her fists, wanting to forget his face or the way he felt under her as she slept or the smiles he gifted only to her. The thought that he was out there living his life, that she was just a footnote on the pages of his story kept her awake most nights. Nights spent in futile attempts to erase the fingerprints that felt permanently tattooed into her skin because Niall had left like Chloe’s had barely brushed his.

He had left.

He had left her.

Her anger didn’t come quietly or slowly, but hit her senses all at once like an explosion. It ripped through her violently and lit a red hot fire under her skin. The day it hit started like any other day since he’d left. She headed into work early to draft some more ideas for her boss, some of which seemed actually doable. And after work, she’d been in such good spirits that she and Harry decided to go out for happy hour drinks around the corner. Chloe slid up to the bar for the first round and standing next to her was a familiar face. It took a while to place her, a very pretty girl with dark hair and a tan. When the light went on Chloe felt like she’d collapse.

It was the girl from the first night she’d met Niall. The night Niall spent all night flirting with Chloe and then left, without a goodbye, to go home with the nameless beauty. Chloe should have known then. The girl was a walking omen. She should have run and hid from Niall that night because deep down she knew better. But Niall had drawn her in and made her believe that they belonged to each other. And Chloe just let him, just let him come and go in her life whenever he pleased and she was as used up as the girl next to her, probably more so. Because Chloe felt like an empty shell and the pretty girl next to her looked rosy cheeked and full of life.

Somewhere in the very back of her mind Chloe knew her worst enemy was herself. Not Niall. Because he’d done nothing to her that she hadn’t given him permission to do in the first place. But that was too much to be processed, too many old wounds that needed healing so she threw it on Niall instead. It was easier.

That night she got rip-roaring drunk, pouring drink after drink into her body and barely registered when Harry finally led her away from the bar and the nameless man she’d thrown herself at. Harry spent the next few hours holding her hair back ar as she leaned over the toilet, tears streamed down her face, and he listened to her tear Niall apart. Every negative thought she’d spent months repressing poured out of her. She shouted and threw up till she was hoarse. When Harry finally got her to bed and climbed in behind her to smooth her hair from the sweat on her forehead, she finally said it.

“I fucking hate him, Harry.”  

It sustained her for weeks.

_____

Two months after their disastrous first date, Chloe called Sam. She’d survived on hatred for a bit and although it felt like she was waging a war in her soul, it felt like time to move on. Niall hadn’t contacted her since that night in Ireland, the last chapter was written, cover closed, their story collecting dust on a shelf.

Sam agreed to forget about their first date that ended in tears and embarrassment and they decided to try their hand at French food in Soho. Sam picked her up from her flat like a proper gentleman, and they spent a lovely evening trying new food and drinking pricey wine. It was lovely, grown up, and Sam was exactly the sort of man for whom she’d spent highschool and college waiting to walk into her life.

One date turned into ten, which turned into exclusive labels and shared beds and in no time Chloe found companionship. Sam put her first, always gentle and funny and sweet and for the most part it worked. She was happy.  

Some nights, though, she’d wake up in a sweaty panic and throw his arms off her because he smelled wrong and at times the way he held her as they slept was suffocating. Sam always slept so heavily so he never heard her shuffle out to the kitchen, sit down at the table, and place her clammy forehead on its hard surface to focus on breathing in and out. If the ache became overwhelming, she’d pace the kitchen and reorganize the fridge or do the dishes, anything to chase the wild panic away.

If she was being honest with herself, she could admit to being homesick again. She went to dinner and sat across from Sam, his open, handsome face staring back at her, and she felt like she was on a date with a stranger. Like she was living someone else’s life. And she was so homesick. Not for America, though. She was homesick for Niall. Niall. Who’d managed to become her home. 

So where was she supposed to go now?

_____

November rolled around, and Chloe decided to throw a London Thanksgiving for her friends with Sam’s help, of course. They spent a Saturday afternoon baking and prepping, feeding each other morsels of food that tasted like crisp autumn days and home, and stole kisses while covered in flour. It was a good day and she only thought about Niall once after searching the bathroom cabinet under the sink for spare paper towels and came on an open box of leftover purple hair dye. It felt heavy in her hand and she hadn’t remembered saving it. It wasn’t like Nill would have ever let her near his hair with it again. Minutes passed as she remembered that night. The night Niall told her he didn’t think of her that way. After a minute she threw it away and went back to Sam, who was cutting up yams, and kissed him like she meant it.

_____

“I think you killed me. I’m dead. I’m dying,” Louis groaned from his place on the ground at the foot of the couch.

“Yeah, this definitely feels like death’s sweet embrace,” Harry agreed.

“What about you guys?” Chloe asked Rosie and Liam who were sitting side by side on the couch and uncharacteristically, not touching.

“Why? Why did I eat all of that?” Liam asked.

Chloe caught Sam’s eye from across the room, “Amateurs,” she scoffed.

“Exactly, you Brits know nothing about pacing,” Sam teased.

“Right, because we still have pie,” Chloe said, answered by a chorus of groans.

“Save me a piece?” Sam asked moving across the room to kiss Chloe goodbye. She nodded.

“Are you sure you have to go?” Sam was headed back to the states for the week to spend thanksgiving with his family and Chloe was insanely jealous. Her father had decided on a fishing trip with some of his fellow bachelor friends after Chloe had confirmed months ago she wouldn’t be coming home till Christmas.

“I think my mom would be pretty disappointed.”

“Let me at least walk you out,” he grabbed her hand and pulled her off the couch. They wrapped around each other and walked down the hallway for a private goodbye.

“Miss you already,” he said into her hair.

“Sap,” she replied, voice muffled by his shoulder, “Miss you too.” She meant it. The day had been lovely, almost perfect. By the end of it, she promised herself that when he got back she’d make it work. She’d try harder, do better.

He kissed her one last time and threw a wave goodbye over his shoulder as he left.

Once back inside, she threw herself on the couch and snuggled up with Harry, content.

“Wait, Harry, where’s Paula? I invited her and she never got back to me,” Chloe asked after a minute, feeling guilty that it took her all day to notice her absence. Harry stiffened underneath her.

“Thailand,” he answered.

“Thailand? She went to Thailand?” Chloe asked.

“Yeah, erm, last month,” Harry said. From his position on the floor Louis squirmed a bit and gave Chloe a worried look.

“She’s been in Thailand for a month?” Chloe asked again, worried now.

“She wanted to work at this elephant rescue, so she left. It’s no big deal,” Harry said casually, like it wasn’t insane that Chloe hadn’t noticed that his girlfriend had been gone for an entire month. It made her feel like garbage. Granted, she’d been lost in her own head for a while but it was no excuse to ignore her friends.

“When is she getting back?”

Harry shrugged, “I don’t know, we don’t talk anymore.”

“You broke up?” Chloe asked, no one seemed to want to meet her eye.

“We were never technically together,” Harry said casually. Chloe grabbed his hand once more trying to silently apologize for being such a shit friend. “It’s really fine, Chloe.”

“No, not it’s not fine,” she whispered. “I’ve been so selfish. I’m sorry.”

“You’ve had stuff going on, Chloe. No one blames you,” Louis said sitting up.

“That’s not an excuse. It’s really, really not.” Chloe felt the weight of her actions of the past couple of months sitting heavy on her shoulders. She thought that by not talking about Niall, by not bringing him up she wouldn’t be burdening her friends, but actions spoke louder than words and her’s had apparently been screaming _“I don’t care”_ for the past two months.

Yes, she really must do better.

Sitting up, she took the time to look into the eyes of her friends. “Okay, so there’s this thing at Thanksgiving that my family used to do where we all had to go around and say what we’re thankful for. It’s cheesy and stupid, but I’m going to do it now because I really owe it to you guys.”

Chloe took a moment to collect herself while her friends fidgeted in nervous anticipation.

“Rosie, thank you for not killing me when I stayed up late watching T.V. too loud and for that time I reorganized our flat and it looked like the Unabomber lived here.” Rosie smiled at her gently, her eyes soft and blew an air kiss at Chloe.  

“No problem, babe.”

“Liam, thank you for always getting rid of the spiders in the house but not killing them because you know that it makes me sad.” Liam beamed back at her, his eyes turning into little sparking slits on his face.

“Harry, I’m sorry I’ve been a shit friend because you’re about the best person in the world and you make me lunch and buy me chocolate and run interception when I’m about to push Sarah over the edge into firing me.” Harry responded by running his hands through her hair.

“Louis, you make everything fun, and I forgive you for gluing my shoes to the floor last week.”

“No problem, love,” he chirped patting her on the calf and sticking his tongue out at her looking imish but with no malice behind it.  

“What I’m really trying to say is I’m going to be better and I’m really really sorry. Thanks for not leaving.”

“We would never leave,” Harry said.

Things were getting better.

____

Chloe hadn’t been to Holly’s in two weeks. Doing her best at being fun again, her days had booked up quickly between her friends and Sam. Each day had gotten a little better. She’d slept a bit deeper, left work earlier. She was proud of herself and the ache, though not gone, would sometimes be forgotten over pints, or in intimacy with Sam. He’d hold her after sex and they’d shared pillow talk until they fell asleep.

So she’d been neglecting Holly.

Rounding the corner to Holly’s penthouse, bag of scones in one hand, new cat toy for Humphrey in the other she was lost in thought and ran straight into a solid body. Before she could fall two hands shot out to catch her before she landed ass-first on the pavement.  

“You need to work on your balance, Blondie.”

Chloe should have been more surprised to see him here. He’d been absent from London and her life for months, but in that time he’d been running constant circles around her head so that, at times, it felt like he’d never left. Niall was bundled up against the biting November cold, his eyes were a sharp, stinging blue, stunning. If things hadn’t changed between them, she’d mock him for his hat which looked like something her grandpa would wear golfing. He still looked handsome, though, the ass.

After he righted her, he shoved his hands into his coat pocket and was looking at her warily, like maybe he was expecting her to slap him.

There was so much she wanted to say to him. She had had so many conversations and fights with him in her head, cried over him, lost sleep over him but still she stood there frozen, words caught in her throat. It took ages for her to remember one.

“Hi.”

He smiled at her, face warming up a bit.

“Hey,” he took a step closer to her, trying to lessen the space between them. It took everything in her not to take a step back as he did.

“You were at Holly’s?” she asked.

“Yeah, thought I’d say hi while I was in London.”

“Sure,” Chloe said, “That’s good. She’s missed you.”

They stood silent for another moment.

“Are you coming to the gig tonight?” Niall asked looking hesitant but his eyes were wide and hopeful, he looked like he already expected the answer to be yes. It irked her a little.

Chloe shook her head, “I had no idea you had a show here tonight. I didn’t even know you were back in London.” Niall’s face darkened.

“We announced it on Facebook,” Niall sounded put out. Chloe suppressed an eye roll.

“I’ve been a bit busy, Niall.” He looked devastated, eyebrows furrowing, mouth in a tight line. A very vindictive part of her felt triumphant because he’d thrown her away, and she wanted him to know how it felt.  

He was chewing on the inside of his lip, something she used to chastise him for daily. But she bit her tongue, it wasn’t her place anymore. Maybe it never was.

“I have plans tonight anyway,” she lie, “Plus I didn’t think you guys were coming back to London till January.”

He sighed, “We have a break and Ed promised an old friend we’d do a set at Troxy. We’re just an opener, but still, it’s Troxy.”

She was impressed, they must be doing really well to be playing there. “Niall, that’s great.” He smiled again. “I’m really happy for you.”

“Maybe you could convince your plans to be flexible? I could get you tickets. The rest of the gang are going. I know that for sure,” his face was eager and pleading.

“Two? Could you get me two? It’s not a guarantee, but maybe.” His face lit up, and she caught a glimpse of the Niall she knew when things between them were less fractured.

“As many as you need. Whatever you need.” Niall stepped towards her again and this time she did step back, it was involuntary and she felt like garbage when she saw the rejection on his face.

“Okay, well, see you later maybe,” he nodded and walked past her and she turned around to watch him go, his shoulders shoulders braced against the cold.

“Ni,” she called out unable to watch him go any further. When he turned around she saw the wetness at his eyes that he immediately began to scrub away with his fists. She closed the gap between them in seconds and buried herself in his chest and he responded immediately by encasing her with his arms and melting into her touch shaking a bit from the cold and something else. Immediately she felt something slot into place. He felt like coming home.

“Hey Niall?” she asked when his shaking subsided and her breathing evened out.

“Yeah?”

“Where’d you get that hat? Grandpa’s R Us?” He cackled into her ear.

They disengaged from each other wiping at their eyes, the awkward tension gone and all that remained was the goodbye. Again.

“See you later?” he asked.

All she could do was shrug.

“Whatever you need, Chloe.” He nodded once again and walked away.

______________

She arrived at the show with Sam not to be spiteful, but because he was her boyfriend and that’s what you do when you’re in a relationship. And because it was nice to have someone’s hand to hold when she walked down the street and to take home at the end of the night.

They found the rest of their group already milling around in the growing crowd. Louis texted her earlier to let them know they were going early to hang out backstage with the band, and Chloe had gently declined his invitation opting for dinner with Sam instead. He’d cooked her lemon rosemary chicken, and they’d had sex on his living room floor.

Louis greeted her enthusiastically, and she could tell he was already a little drunk, bouncing around Liam trying to pick a fight and then moving on to Rosie when Liam didn’t take the bait.  

“Well if it isn’t Short and Tall,” he crowed, throwing his arm around Chloe, pulling her away from Sam a bit. 

“Louis,” Sam greeted keeping his distance. He and Louis hadn’t quite warmed to each other, mostly because Louis didn’t approve of their relationship, an opinion he expressed loudly and often.

“Harry?” Chloe asked and Louis just pointed to the merch table where Harry was dressed to the the nines, a wild printed red and white shirt unbuttoned a fraction too low, surrounded by a small group of girls. She rolled her eyes affectionately.

People were still milling around and chatting loudly when Ed and the band took the stage, greeted with halfhearted cheers. They were, after all, just the opener.

“Hi,” Ed said sheepishly into the microphone, “I’m Ed Sheeran and I’m going to play some songs for you.” Niall and he nodded to each other once and the set began.

They were electric on stage. Their set demanded the crowd’s full attention. By the third song, the whole room had shut up and were paying rapt attention to the men on stage. Looking around in the dim lighting, Chloe could see the admiration on the faces of the people around her, could sense the crowd become more and more wrapped up in the music.

While the rest of the audience became more enraptured by Ed, Chloe couldn’t take her eyes off Niall. It wasn’t that she’d never heard him play before. He had often spent nights noodling on his guitar making up funny songs and melodies singing under his breath. Chloe knew he was talented, but standing in the crowd, he was all she could see. The lights reflected off his hair, purple and blue and red, making him look radiant and otherworldly. He could go from goofy to intense in a second and his energy was a stark contrast to Ed’s still confidence, running around the stage to interact with the bassist and drum player. Chloe felt like she could watch him forever, and felt the other people in the hot room fall away so it was just the two of them, Niall playing, Chloe clinging to every note, every moment.

All too soon, their set was over and she felt like she hadn’t breathed or blinked, her body and mind rigid and taut with excitement. When they left the stage she deflated like a balloon practically falling into Sam’s side trying to steady herself. When she looked up at him he was studying her face, his brows furrowed together, jaw set in a rigid line. He looked off. Disappointed? Frustrated? And Chloe felt ashamed because if he was watching her during the show he must know. There’d be no mistaking her behavior. The previous week Sam had taken her to a small jazz club, she spent the night clinging to him, sharing kisses, using every opportunity the music gave her to dance and flirt with him. But just now, she’d behaved like he wasn’t even there. Like miles existed between them. He’d have to know.  

Chloe and Sam stood like that for a while, through the chants of the crowd for the next act, not breaking eye contact when the band finally took the stage to the roar of the audience.

When he leaned down to bring their faces close to each other she thought for a moment he was going to kiss her.

“You still love him,” he shouted in her ear over the music.

Chloe weighed her options. She could lie. She could deny the whole thing, leave the concert with Sam right now and keep going through the motions with him. She could keep drawing a smile on her face every morning when he woke up in her bed. She could keep using him to fill the deep cracks inside of herself. But she’d known since that afternoon, since watching Niall walk away from her on the sidewalk bracing himself against the cold, that she’d spent the last three months using Sam as a distraction. Because when she watched Niall turn the corner and disappear from her view, she understood with complete and devastating clarity that she didn’t know how not to be in love with Niall.

If she was going to figure out how to stop, it had to be on her own.

So she told the truth, and nodded her head once looking him in the eyes. “There aren’t enough words to tell you how amazing you are and how sorry I am,” she shouted back in his ear. Tears gathered in her eyes and he thumbed at them.

He ran his hand down the side of her face, cupped her cheek, and kissed her firmly on the mouth. When he pulled back, she knew it was over.

“Goodbye,” she mouthed up at him.

“Good luck,” he mouthed back.

She watched him as he weaved through the crowd and felt a great weight lift from her chest because for the first time in months, she’d done the right thing. Even though it felt like a free fall into devastating loneliness.

She turned around and stepped closer to Rosie reaching out to grasp her hand, Rosie squeezed back immediately.

________

For some reason Chloe thought that going out for pints after the show with the band would be a good idea. Initially it was because the thought of going home to an empty, dark flat was too depressing , so she followed her group to the pub thinking if she stayed enough on the fringe, she could successfully avoid Niall for the whole of the night. She was an idiot.

They were walking in a herd of about fifteen people, Harry, Rosie, Liam, and Louis acting as a buffer between her and the band and some of their crew. One of the roadies, Derrick, had drifted back to talk to her and Harry. She was trying her best to answer his questions with enthusiasm while she stared at the back of Niall’s neck. Noticing how quiet he was, how reserved, Chloe fought the desire to walk up right behind him and bury her face between his shoulders and throw her arms around his waist just to make sure he was okay.

“-Chloe?” Harry’s voice cut through her thoughts.

“Yeah?” She whipped her head around, hoping she wasn’t being too obvious.

“Derrick was just asking you a question.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. What was it?” They’d arrived at the pub, an underground, unmarked hole in the wall.

“I was just asking how long you’ve been in London, love?” Derrick asked taking her arm to help her down the icy steps.

“Thanks! About seven months. Wow.”

“‘Wow’ good or ‘wow’ bad?” he asked.

“Good. ‘Wow’ good. It feels like longer than that, but I don’t mean that in a bad way. I meant it like I can’t remember not living here.”

He smiled and let go of her arm, “Exactly. I grew up in Glasgow, but London is the only place for me.” The group was getting situated at a large table and when she glanced at Niall and he offered her a tight, close lipped smile. Derrick had pulled out a chair for her next to his, Looking hopeful that she’d sit next to him

“I have to pee,” she announced, feeling too many pairs of eyes on her, Niall’s included who was also still standing. She backed away from the open chair and darted to a back corner that looked like it would hopefully house the bathroom.

Her guess was right. It was a one seater, and she ran her cold, clammy hands under a stream of hot water, already missing Sam and wondering how things came to hiding in a filthy bar bathroom staring into a mirror that had the words _Fuck you, Rebecca_ scratched into it. She steeled herself for a few more moments before throwing the door open and heading back into battle.

Chloe’s stomach dropped when she reached the table and saw the only open seat was at the end right next to Niall. Louis had taken the seat next to Derrick, who was glaring at him and huffing into his beer. When Niall noticed her standing there, he pulled the chair out for her a fraction and picked up an empty pint glass pouring it with shaky hands and placing it into the table in her spot. She took a deep breath and sat down.

Conversation swirled around the two of them as the minutes passed. Niall and Chloe seemed to only speak when directly addressed. She was purposefully not looking at him. He was purposefully not looking at her. But the silent heat of him next to her was all she could focus on. It was cold in the basement bar, the windows were old, letting in freezing drafts. She wanted to curl into his side, lace her fingers with his under the table and relax. Instead she just stared at the glass of disappearing alcohol in front of her feeling miserably guilty about how she’d just broken up with the perfect man and couldn’t stop thinking about the broken boy next to her.  

“Did you like the show?” Niall asked leaned in to ask barely louder than a whisper.

Chloe nodded, “You guys were amazing. I didn’t realize. The EP is great but you guys were brilliant live.”

Niall beamed at her and covered his face like he was embarrassed she was seeing him so happy.

“Thanks.” He scrubbed a hand over his face.

She turned toward him just a fraction and noticed he’d barely touched his drink.

“I only speak the truth.”

“Did your friend not like it? He ran out before the headliner even played.” Chloe could tell he was trying to sound casual but his left leg was bouncing so rapidly it was shaking their table.

“Um, no. That’s not why he left. I… he’s just gone.” Niall nodded once in understanding and slid his chair a fraction closer to hers. They were silent again, but it was more familiar and relaxed. She allowed their arms to knock together on the table, and she smiled when Louis teased Niall mercilessly about his hat.

“I like it,” Chloe defended while Niall sulked dramatically, crossed his arms and pouting his lips.

“No you don’t, Blondie,” the nickname sent a zing of familiar electrify up her spine, “I believe the words ‘Grandpas’ R’ Us’ were used this morning.”

“This morning?” Ed asked bumping Niall’s arm purposefully and things were immediately awkward again. Eyes were back on her like she’d done something wrong. She wanted to scream. Niall pushed him off and threw his arm over the back of Chloe’s chair.

“We ran out into each other on the street,” Niall said.

“Yeah, and since then the hat has really grown on me.”

“Thanks, Blondie.”

“Don’t mention it.”

The conversation steered away from them after that, people breaking off into twos and threes to talk, or in Liam and Rosie's case to stare into each other’s eyes disgustingly in love.

Niall turned to face her, and they studied each other for a bit. It was familiar and the ache in her chest was back, a gaping space inside of her she’d tried so hard to close back up but no matter what she did there was Niall in her memory or here before her, a reminder of what she had and lost. Chloe wondered if there was ever going to be a time when she wasn’t in love with him.

“When do you leave again?”

“Tomorrow morning we’re headed to Paris.” Chloe nodded her head and Niall wrapped his fingers around hers under the table, laying his hot palm over her hand on her thigh. She closed her eyes and focused on breathing in and out. She didn’t pull her hand away.

When they left the bar, the group said their goodbyes and began to split, the band headed to their manager’s house to crash on the floor and couch, Chloe and her friends walking to the nearest tube station in the opposite direction. She and Niall stared at each other as the others said goodbye, old friends and new, the action happening around them in a hazy swirl. As the group began to part ways Niall and Chloe remained rooted in place.

Was this her life now? Watching the action of her life in the peripheral because all she could see was Niall, Niall, Niall? People began walking away from them and still they stood facing each other like mirrors.

It was Niall who moved first slowly, tentatively crossing that thousand mile barrier. He took both her gloved hands in his bare, chalked ones.

“Have fun in Paris,” Chole’s words were soft like her breath that came out in smoky clouds against the freezing night air.

“I miss you,” he choked out, eyes damp.

She nodded her head in agreement. They slowly wrapped around each other like they were both asking for permission to touch, like they hadn’t memorized each other’s bare bodies. It was different than the hug they’d shared that morning, less desperate, more like goodbye.

Why was their whole relationship one long goodbye?

Niall brought his hand up to her throat and dipped his finger down past her scarf, the cold, roughness of it shocked her and she shivered. When he found the chain of her necklace he pulled it up out of hiding under her scarf and sweater. When he drew back and saw the familiar chain and bar she hadn’t taken off since he’d given it to her, he smiled in triumph like he’d been given a favorable answer to a long asked question.  

“I miss you too,” she said and broke away from him. Chloe felt Niall watch her walk away. She turned back to see his face one more time before descending the stairs to the tube but he was so far away that all she could see was a shadow on the dark London streets.

____________

The next day Chloe dragged herself to Holly's tired and raw. All the stitches she'd sewn into her skin had been ripped out and she needed a place to hide. Harry texted her that morning asking to come over, but the compassionate understanding look on his face as they left the Troxy the previous night only served as a reminder of her heartbreak. Harry assumed she was mostly upset about Sam, which she was, but she missed him for all the wrong reasons which made her sick to her stomach with guilt. She didn’t want anyone to know that her body ached only for Niall who she should have let go of a long, long time ago.

Louis would just give her an I told you so look, and Rosie and Liam were too happy together for her to stomach. So it was off to Holly's.

Humphrey was sleeping on her feet under the dining table when Holly blindsided her.

"I think it's time for us to have a talk," Holly said over her delicate teacup looking serious and concerned. Her eyes were narrow, but still sparkling and gentle.

"What do you mean?" Chloe said, blood freezing in her veins. This was supposed to be her safe place where Holly would placate her with stories and tea so she could shut the outside world away for just a while.

"You're looking very worn today," Holly said putting her tea cup back on the table and folding her hands on the table like a lawyer readying for negotiation. Chloe felt herself bristle up, defensive already.

"I had a late night, that's all. I'm fine."

"Yes, well you've been looking quite worn for some time now," Holly pressed looking at Chloe with her eyebrows raised, like she was baiting her.

"I've had a lot going on," Chloe was looking at her half empty teacup purposefully avoiding Holly's eyes.

"Young lady, I think it's time to be honest with yourself." Chloe felt like she was five years old.

"What?" she played dumb.

"Darling, you're heartbroken," Chloe squirmed in her seat, "and I think it's time for you to fix it."

Raising her eyes up to the ceiling she stared at the chandelier willing it to fall on her. "Fix it?"

"You think that you're going to have good things in your life if you just sit around and wait for them to come to you? You just let him walk away. Chloe, did you even tell him how you felt?"

Chloe was suddenly very, very angry and very, very scared.  Feeling cornered like a wild animal, Chloe was on her feet before she realized it.

" _He_ left _ME_. Me. Did he tell you that? When you were having tea yesterday. Did he tell you that he let me make him my home and he then left? God, I am so _sick_ of everyone telling me how to feel and what to do." Chloe didn't often yell, and rarely ever expressed anger outwardly, but now the words were pouring from her mouth like lava, she was erupting.

"He left me. And he didn't even say goodbye. Didn't call me or text me. He acted like we'd never even met. Like I was just another girl to sleep with and-"

"Chloe-"

"NO. Stop. I don't want to hear it because it's a lie. Even if I'd told him that I love him, that he's the only thing I've ever really wanted, he would have left anyway. He would have." Chloe was vaguely aware she was crying and shouting and panicked because she was seconds away from verbalizing the most shameful truths about herself.  Things she shoved down so deep because once people knew, they'd disappear in a heartbeat.

Holly stood up to come closer to Chloe, actions determined but face calm. She grabbed her upper arms, firmly forcing Chloe to face her.

"What's this nonsense?" Holly soothed.

"He was always going to leave," she couldn't catch her breath, the words coming out in stutters, tears rushing down her face.

"Why, if he knew the truth, would he ever leave you?" Holly asked sounding genuinely confused.

"Because I'm not enough. I'm not enough. They always leave," Chloe babbled, shivering and terrified. She felt like she was going to end up in pieces on the floor.

"Is this because of your mother, darling?"

Chloe eyes snapped to Holly's, frantically trying to remember anything she’d ever said or done that tipped Holly off. Normally so careful and guarded about the subject of her mother, Chloe wondered where she’d slipped up.

"You never mention her," Holly answered her silent question, "You think I didn't notice how you never once said a thing about her?"

Chloe felt as thin and transparent as tissue paper.

"I wasn't enough for her. I loved her so much. I did everything she ever asked me to do, and she didn't love me enough to stay. She didn't even leave a note. Isn't that what people are supposed to do when they kill themselves? Leave a note to apologize to their loved ones? To tell them it wasn’t their fault? But she didn't even say goodbye." Holly's eyes were fierce when she led Chloe out of the dining room and into the sitting room. She allowed herself to be maneuvered gently on her side and Holly placed her head on a pillow next to her lap whose boney fingers rested on her head as the words continued to pour out of her.

She confessed things to Holly she'd never told another living person. Confessed that some nights her mother would drag her out of bed to make midnight milkshakes that would give her stomach aches that lasted the whole next day, about the night in February that her mother dressed her in her bathing suit and dragged her out into the snow to make snow angels until Chloe's fingers and toes were blue but she didn't dare complain because her mother was up and out of bed and Chloe thought if she could just keep her mother happy, the bad times would go away for good.  

It felt like betrayal as Chloe spilled her mother's secrets to Holly, secrets her father didn't even know. Like the times that her mother couldn't get up to face the day and Chloe would sit in bed with her, painting her mother's fingernails or reading to her. How she'd bring her gin at noon and hide the bottle before her father got back from work because when she did, her mother would call her _good girl_ , and _princess_ even though she knew it was wrong.

Holly now knew that her mother, in one of her manias, started planning Chloe’s big blowout sweet sixteen, invited the whole town to their house. She worked tirelessly making food and cakes and Chloe thought that she really did love her despite everything. But two days before the party was the worst she'd ever seen her mom, and she closed the blinds and locked herself away. They had the party still, her father looking desperate as he flipped burgers while their friends mingled in the backyard and Chloe sneaking upstairs to keep trying to coax her mother out with the promise of food and cake. How they’d lied to everyone and said that she had a migraine.

And how two days after that, her mother took a hundred or so pills and left her for good.

After Chloe left for Chicago she'd sometimes find herself walking down the street staring into the faces of strangers wondering what they saw back. Wondering if they judged her for her vacant eyes and slumped shoulders and she had to fight the urge to run up to them and scream in their faces that her mother killed herself two days after she turned sixteen like that would explain everything undesirable about her.

Chloe told Holly how she used to be wild and radiant. That she used to be so carefree with her feelings and affections until she learned how easy it is for someone to rip them up and toss them away, how it had rendered her defective and awkward. She forgot how to be around people, how to love herself and others the way they should be loved, without fear and without hesitation.

So she spent her years in Chicago on the fringe. She had friends, but drifted from group to group unable and unwilling to get any deeper than a fun drinking buddy or a one night stand. And it hurt, not having anyone to rely on, but it was better than opening herself up to let people see just how unwanted she was, just how unworthy.

Then she met Niall. Even on the first night, she knew it was different. She _wanted_ to let him in. She felt safe with him even if half the time they were together she was experiencing a terrifying free fall into love; powerless to stop it, not wanting to even if she could. He made her feel free from judgement from expectation. He made her feel like the person she used to be; funny, outgoing, and spontanious. She'd let Niall in because even a glimpse of something great with him was better than anything she’d felt in the past five years. Even though every time he walked out the door, she wondered if it was the last time she'd see him. So it was no surprise to her when that’s exactly what happened.

Now Holly knew why she didn't fight. Why delay the inevitable? Her mother's abandonment had made her many things, not the least of which was pragmatic, about relationships, about people in general. Which is why she let Niall go without a fight and why she did nothing to get him back.

She talked until she wore herself out, till her throat hurt and the satin pillow beneath her head was ruined with tears, snot, and mascara. At some point Humphry had settled up under her chin allowing himself to be cried on, and when Chloe felt the last of her words dry up, she buried her nose in his fur.

“Darling,” Holly said after some time had passed, “your mother wasn’t well. Do you ever think that the reason she hung on as long as she did was because she loved you?”

And no. No Chloe had never thought of it that way before.

___

Chloe took the long way home from Holly’s. She felt exhausted and wrung out but weightless. Like she’d left a backpack of bricks back at Holly’s apartment and, having grown used to the weight, now felt delightfully unsteady on her feet, because she didn’t know how to live without the burden of her secrets. She wasn’t carrying her pain alone anymore. It was strange. Lovely and strange.  

Floating from street to street, she peered into the windows of restaurants and shops watching couples out to dinner and shopkeepers closing up feeling no panic, no worry. Because for the first time in ages, Chloe felt like she was exactly where she was supposed to be. Who she was supposed to be. It hurt and every nerve in her body felt raw, but she allowed herself to feel it all. She no longer felt like hiding or shying away from the world because she’d bared her soul to Holly and hadn’t been rejected. Holly didn’t look at her any differently. It was an unbelievable relief.

It was the first time she’d said so many things out loud and the bottom hadn’t dropped out of her life. The ground still rested under her feet, solid and reassuring.  The sky didn’t fall in on her; the world still turned. And having spilled those secrets out loud for the first time ever, some of her thoughts felt a little unrealistic. Thinking that she deserved to be left behind, that it was inevitable, was one thing to think, but when she said it out loud, the words echoed in her own ears sounding harsh. Like lies. For the first time Chloe inspected the inner picture she’d painted of herself objectively, and it looked like an image she would see of in a fun-house mirror. Clearly her, but obviously wrong.

Because how could that be true of her? That she’s was fundamentally unlovable because her mother couldn’t love herself? Rosie’s mother gave her up for adoption moments after giving birth, and when Rosie went in search of her was told she was unwanted, that she was given up for a reason. Does that mean that Rosie doesn't deserve every ounce of love that Liam showed her every day? No. Never would that thought even _cross_ Chloe’s mind. So why would it be true of herself? Why should her own circumstances look any different? It seemed so clear then, walking home in the dusky twilight, street lights just coming on, that Chloe had been carrying the burden of her mother’s suicide around for years because deep, deep down she believed it to be her fault. That if Chloe had been better, smarter, prettier, more helpful her mother would still be alive.

It was the same with Niall. Chloe thought, all this time, that he’d left because of her. But for the first time she thought maybe that wasn’t true. Niall was gone, yes but it didn’t mean it was her fault exclusively. They’d both made mistakes. It still hurt that she’d lost him, but the realization that it wasn’t because something was fundamentally unlovable about her stung less. It didn’t crush her so she couldn’t breathe. Chloe might actually, with more time, be able to move on. To love someone else, eventually. Not for a long time, yet. But maybe.

And Chloe would endeavour to believe she deserved it.

_______

When she got home, they were all there. Her London family. For the first time in months she didn’t have to fight the feeling to hide from them, to slip past them as they whispered to each other in the living room and shut herself in her bedroom for the rest of the night. She wanted to be around them, to envelop herself between them on their too small couch and watch bad television and eat too much sugar and drink too much beer. She wanted to be honest and open, to stop compartmentalizing the parts of herself she’d grown terrified of. Chloe was done living a life of hiding in plain sight just because it felt easy and safe. Because, in truth, she always felt like she was walking in sand from the constant pain of being half herself all the time.

They all looked at her at the same time, and Chloe knew they’d been talking about her. It was obvious. She didn’t mind because she had people who cared enough about her that they didn’t give up, even when she’d done everything in her power in the past months to alienate them.

Harry handed her a steaming cup of peppermint tea, her favorite, and led her over to the couch gingerly, trying not to startle her. Once seated they all took their places around her, Rosie and Harry on her sides, Louis and Liam beside them.

“It’s not that I’m not grateful for the kitten pile, but what are you guys doing here?” Chloe asked.

“Holly called me,” Harry said, “she didn’t want you to be alone.”

Chloe smiled into Harry’s shoulder heart warm in her chest, “She’s a good egg, that one.”

“Yeah,” Harry agreed as he petted her hair.

There was a moment of silence before Louis spoke up, “Want to watch a movie?”

“No, actually, I think I’d like to talk,” she replied and set her mug down on the coffee table with shaky hands.

So for the second time that day, she laid her darkest secrets in front of the people she loved, hoping they wouldn’t turn her away, that they wouldn’t love her any less. As she trudged through it all again she felt more weight ease off her shoulders, and wondered how she could ever think her friends would ever leave. As they cried with her, Chloe felt an overwhelming sense of peace. They knew, and nothing was different. They knew, and she was still Chloe. They knew, and she wasn’t alone.

She was home.


	8. Chapter 8

[Suggested Listening ](https://open.spotify.com/user/1260911781/playlist/5TcGRgPGcNfq5JtuzALSVm)

 

When Chloe told Harry she wanted to “try new things” and “put herself out there” she thought he would take her to a trendy juice bar or to buy new shoes, _maybe_ a cooking class. But as sweat dripped in her eyes during Bikram yoga, she vowed to switch all his pens out for crayons and burn all his pretty floral shirts in retaliation.  She should have asked Louis to do something with her because he would have taken her on a weekend trip up to Doncaster to drink and flirt with strangers, not showing her up with his perfect form in the hardest yoga class she’d ever taken. Well, the only yoga class she’d ever taken. Same thing.

After Chloe’s wet hands slipped again landing her straight onto her stomach, she decided to spend the rest of the class in a sweaty, smelly corpse pose.

“Have fun?” Harry asked her as they toweled off and rolled up their mats. He looked relaxed and glowing. A quick peek in the mirror revealed her tomato red face and frizzy hair. Next time she wanted to try something new Harry Styles would not be not invited.

 

 

“No. And I hate you.” He threw his damp towel at her, and she barely dodged it. “But now I know. No hot yoga for me.” Harry beamed at her as he threw his hair in a bun.

The yoga class was Chloe’s most recent attempt in what Louis affectionately called her, “Eat, Pray, Love” phase. Which was fair enough because Chloe was tired of being a casual observer in her own life and decided to start allowing herself to enjoy things without questioning her decisions every five minutes. It was the hardest thing she’d ever done. It was amazing.

They walked back to Harry’s studio in the fresh spring air and Chloe sweet talked him into stopping for gelato despite his whining about putting toxins back into his body right after sweating them all out. Chloe ended up finishing his for him as Harry showered while she cuddled Dusty in her lap and wrote in the new moleskine journal Liam gave her for Christmas.

Emerging from the bathroom, Harry yelped when he saw Dusty licking out the remnants of Chloe’s gelato container on the coffee table.  

“You can’t feed gelato to a cat!” he reprimanded as he snached Dusty off the coffee table and cuddled her to his neck. She yowled to get away.

“Whoops! Sorry, didn’t notice,” Chloe answered not looking up from the list she was compiling. “Also, she’s fine. I feed her treats all the time when you’re not looking.”

“She’s gonna get fat.”

“So? Take her to your yoga class because I’m certainly never going with you again.” Harry pouted at her but padded into the kitchen to pour them both generous glasses of water.

“Do you think we should do smoked salmon on toast?” Chloe asked when Harry sat back down next to her.

“That would be claw-some,” Harry answered.

“What did I say about cat puns, Harold?” Chloe said, heaving a great big put-on sigh.

“To not to?”

“To not to!”

“What’s the point of organizing a cat birthday party if I can’t make cat puns?” Harry whined trying to steal her journal away.

“Humphrey is about a thousand years old. He’s not going to want some cheesy puns at his very grown up and classy party.”

“Catsey party.”

“I will slap you on your face,” Chloe threatened but laughed and let him snatch her journal away to start drawing pictures of kittens in the margins of her list. Weeks ago, Chloe had promised Holly she’d help plan for Humphrey’s eighteenth (yes, eighteenth) birthday party.

“I know you’re excited about this, but I don’t get why you’re so uptight about it,” Harry said after presenting her journal back with the pages marked up with very poorly drawn felines and yarn balls all over her formerly pristine list.

“Because Holly has done so much for me, and I want to give her something back.”

“Fair enough,” Harry said. “I think salmon is a wonderful choice.”

“Thanks.” They sat in silence for another moment as Chloe flipped the page from the food list to the guest list.

“Harry, why is there a plus one by your name? Are you bringing a date? To a cat’s birthday party?” He grinned back her her and shook his head no.

“Just wanted to see what you’d do. Worth it.” She threw a pillow at him causing Dusty to jump from Harry’s lap to the floor and howl.

“I think we’ve got a good twenty people coming,” Chloe said to Harry. Initially she was worried that it would just be their friends, but people from work had been enthusiastic about attending as Holly had become a more prominent fixture around the office, and Sarah sent them a slightly threatening email about supporting donor events.

“You know Niall might be back by then, right?” Harry said cautiously.

Chloe’s hand stopped writing but only for a second and her heart dropped in her chest but only a fraction. Whereas months ago that sinking feeling would have felt like drowning, now it only lasted a moment before she collected herself again. Because, truthfully, she was better. The last time she’d seen him and said goodbye in the bitter cold, she’d really begun to put him away when she realized she didn’t need him the way she thought she had.

The burning want hadn’t stopped, but the lie of needing had vanished and she felt stronger, lighter. She’d begun to do more for herself, exploring for the sake of exploring and not distraction, volunteering at a youth center, being more open with her friends. Allowing herself to be happy without guilt.

Ever since she’d poured her secrets out to her friends and the sky hadn’t subsequently fallen on her head, the world was brighter and more full of promise. It was like the moment you look at a freshly cleaned mirror and only then realize how filthy and grimy it was before. Though it was terrifying, she’d still take this unknown freedom over hidden, burdensome grief and doubt any day of the week. She was learning how to love herself, to frame herself in her own eyes not through the lenses of others or the past.

And these changes made her realize she loved Niall for the way he laughed uncontrollably at everyone’s jokes no matter how bad. For how he would listen to the same songs over and over again till the people around him went crazy just because he loved something as small as its bass line. Chloe loved Niall for how loud he was watching a game on tv, and how quiet he got at concerts. She loved him because he treated everyone like they were interesting and never had to ask someone their name twice. She loved him because she wanted to, because knowing him made her a better person.

So it was easier, now, than when Chloe thought she loved him because she needed him.

“Yeah, I figured that out,” she finally answered Harry. “Do you think... do you want me to invite him?”

“I think Holly would really want him there,” Harry said.

“Humphrey, too,” Chloe agreed.

“He mentioned they might be going to Berlin, extending their trip. But he also said he was tired and wanted to come home.”

Chloe nodded. “Yeah, sure. You can invite him. I doubt he’ll ditch Berlin for a cat party, though.” She smiled at Harry and then added Niall’s name to her list with a question mark by it.

“You might be surprised,” he smiled back like he was proud of her for simply writing his name down, and she responded by rolling her eyes and kicking him in the thigh.

“I, for one, would be paw-leased if he came,” Harry said, so she poured her whole glass of water in his lap.

___

“What...is that?” Chloe asked Liam when he showed up to Holly’s wearing the ugliest shirt she’d ever seen and dragging a huge cardboard box into the entryway behind him.

“It’s Humphrey!” Liam said and stretched the bottom of his shirt down to show her the silkscreened picture of Humphrey’s face blown-up on his oversized t shirt. “Remember when I was bored in Manchester last weekend and you texted me that picture of Humphrey to cheer me up?”

“Yes?” Chloe said growing more horrified as Liam opened the box to reveal dozens of shirts just like his in what looked like varying colors and sizes.

“I thought they’d be nice party favors!” Liam said looking more pleased with himself than she’d ever seen him.

“The party favors are mini bottles of Veuve Clicquot and hand pressed lavender bath oils-”

“And now t shirts!” Liam said, and Chloe didn’t have the heart to say no. Hurting Liam’s feelings was like kicking a puppy.

“And now t shirts,” she sighed. “Harry’s in the dining room wrapping the favors if you want to help him.”

“Do you want to wear one for the party?” Liam asked and went to grab a bright lemon colored shirt off the top.

“Maybe!” she said, but quickly backed away, “was that-uh- I think Holly? just said my name.” Chloe made a hasty exit down the long hall that ran the length of the penthouse and followed Holly’s voice into the kitchen.

Chloe found her monologuing to a very harassed looking caterer over a tray of cucumber sandwiches.

“-because the time you bring them out is very important, you know. Set them out too early and people get hungry before the main course, too late and I’m left with an ice box full of fish because people have already stuffed themselves full. Why aren’t you writing all this down?” The caterer’s eyes went wide as he patted himself down for anything to write with or on.

“Holly, why don’t you let me focus on the meal timing so you can go brush Humphrey?” Chloe said. Holly had been a wreck all morning, fussing over the smallest things. Probably because this was the largest amount of people coming to her apartment in roughly a decade. It was a big step for her, and Chloe found that she was incredibly proud when she wasn’t talking Holly off a ledge every fifteen minutes.

“Yes, yes you’re right. The guests will be arriving soon, won’t they?” Holly asked her and when Chloe nodded she rushed past her in pursuit of her ancient cat.

“Beg your pardon miss, but I’ve been in this business for twenty years. I know how to time food service,” the caterer challenged.

“I know, I know. I’m sorry. If she questions anything you do, just tell her that Chloe told you to do it,” she said and went to grab a sandwich off the platter. “May I?” she asked, and when the caterer nodded, she popped it in her mouth and left the kitchen to check on Harry and Liam. She found them wrapping the favors on the dining room floor.

Harry saw her walk in and pouted at her. “Louis was supposed to be here. He told me he’d help me wrap,” he huffed as he ruffled up tissue paper in a cream colored bag.

“And you believed him?” Chloe said and sat down to help.

“No, but still.”

“Liam’s helping you,” Chloe said trying to cheer him back up. 

“Uh, no, actually. I ripped two gift bags, so Harry told me I would help most just by watching him,” Liam said.

“Ah, well you can’t win them all.”

“Yeah, Li. And you _blessed_ us with those shirts,” Harry muttered.

“What was that?” Liam bristled, and Chloe could sense tension from a leftover argument.

“Nothing,” Harry seethed.

“You had a tone,” Liam said.

“You did have a tone, Harry,” Chloe chimed in, smirking a bit. Harry could be such a diva. But then again, so could Liam.

“They don’t go with the theme!”

“The theme is Humphrey's birthday, and it’s a shirt with Humphrey on it! How more on theme could they get, _Harry_?” Liam retorted, his voice verging on a shout.

“The theme is classy cat birthday. Those shirts look like we’re throwing Humphrey a stag-do!” Harry yelled back.

“Harry, what is with you?” Chloe asked, going over to stroke his curls soothingly.

“He wouldn’t let me put the crown on him!” Harry snapped. “I bought it especially for him and he won’t let me put it on!”

“Liam won’t let you put a crown on him?” Chloe asked, her hand pausing mid-stroke, but Liam just put his hands up in surrender.

“No, not Liam! Humphrey!” Harry pulled a tiny plastic gold crown with an elastic band attached to it out of a plastic bag on the floor. “I bought it so he’d look like a tiny prince at his party, and then he scratched me,” Harry sniffed a bit for effect and revealed three angry looking red strips up his forearm.

“Aw, mate, I’m sorry,” Liam scooted closer to him and rubbed his back. “We’ll try again later, yeah?”

“You two have officially cracked. I’m going to go change,” Chloe said and tried her very best not to laugh until the door was shut to the guestroom where she found Humphrey laying on the bed looking relieved she wasn’t Harry.

_______

Despite the fact that Humphrey had already thrown up twice because everyone kept sneaking him rich treats, the party was a success. More people showed up than expected because many people from work brought dates and friends and everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves. Holly kept walking up to Chloe with shining, wide eyes and clutched her hands wordlessly in thanks before darting back off again to show the crown moulding to another guest or to order another round of champagne to be handed out.

It was so ridiculous, and Chloe was having more fun than she’d had in ages.

“Chloe, love, I’m booking you for my next cat birthday party,” Louis said as he barged through a cluster of work friends she was chatting with in the parlor, Humphrey in his arms half asleep.

“Done,” she laughed with him and scratched Humphrey behind his balding ears. Harry barged through the cluster a moment later, the small crown clutched in his hands.

“Is he almost asleep? Do you think he’ll let me now?” Harry asked in earnest, reaching out towards Humphrey. Louis scowled and tried to turn away from Harry to protect Humphrey from Harry’s grabbing hands.

“He doesn’t like it, Harold,” Louis admonished. “Stop bothering him!” He twirled around again after Harry kept after them both, Chloe giggling at the motley crew while taking a video on her phone.

“I just want one picture!” Harry pleaded, his voice honeyed and slow from the champagne.

“Just photoshop it on later. Liam will make you a shirt,” Chloe suggested while continuing to follow them with the phone as they went around in circles. When Humphrey let out a pitiful and annoyed mewl, Louis tripped Harry.

“You woke him up!” Louis cried petting at the yawning cat in his arms. Harry had the decency to hang his head in shame. “Go get him a treat,” Louis ordered, and Harry retreated into the dining room.

“He is well and truly five years old,” Louis said to Chloe trying to rock Humphrey back to sleep.

“Yes, and you’re so mature,” she teased.

“Exactly!” He grinned at her and then at Humphrey when he buried his head into the crook of Louis’ elbow and drifted off again.

“I’m going to make the rounds. I’ll be back,” she told Louis and ducked into the hallway to check on the kitchen staff where she found Holly once again fretting at a caterer over the placement of the sandwiches on a platter.

“It looks cluttered,” she said looking up at Chloe. “Come here and tell him this looks cluttered,” Holly demanded.

The tray wasn’t cluttered.

“You know what, Holly, I’ve got this in here. Why don’t you go check on Humphrey? Last I checked, he looked like his missed you.”

“Yes, yes of course,” she said and grabbed Chloe’s hands again, squeezed lightly, and disappeared through the door of the kitchen.

The staff member standing in front of the platter looked at her distressed and challenging.

“Look,” Chloe started, “you and I both know that this isn’t cluttered, but do you really want her coming back in here?” The man shook his head violently back and forth. “Fix it?” she asked kindly and the man started removing sandwiches from the silver platter at an inhumanly quick pace.

“Thanks! You’re doing a great job!” she said, and he just huffed at her as she opened the door to leave.

And walked into Niall.

They were a tangle of awkward limbs, and she almost tripped over his feet twice. He had to steady himself on the frame of the door in the seconds it took to right herself, but it was him. Niall. He looked better than the last time she’d seen him. Way better. The circles below his eyes were gone, and his skin looked like he’d managed to get some sun and rest. He even managed to make a Humphrey shirt look good. His blue cat birthday shirt made his eyes look impossibly bright. Because of course it did.

“Hey!” Chloe said first, genuinely excited to see him. It wasn’t like the last time where she felt nervous, chest tight with anxiety and hurt. She was truly happy to see him.

“Hey yourself,” he said and casually leaned against the doorframe close enough that she could smell his cologne and the familiar smell of his shampoo. Musk and citrus with a hint of spice. He seemed boyish again, more like the kid she first met the previous summer. “Holly said something about a sandwich crisis. Thought I’d come check it out,” he said.

“I handled it,” she said, just the hint of a joke in her voice, testing out the waters. When Niall laughed and nodded his head, her heart felt like it was in her teeth.

“I thought you would be in Berlin, or something,” she said looking down and picking at her fingernail polish.

He just shook his head and shrugged his shoulders, “Wanted to see everyone. I was sick of living out of a suitcase.”

“Yeah,” she responded, looking back up to make eye contact to find eyes searing into hers. “It’s good to see you,” she added and meant it.

“Same,” he replied.

“I see the hat is still around,” she said.

“Oh, yeah,” he reached up to touch the top of his hat self-consciously, “ I didn’t have time to shower. I basically came straight here from the airport, my luggage is in the hallway and I didn’t have any clean shirts so,” he motioned down to the t shirt and tugged on it a bit, “Do you think it’s okay? Everyone is really dressed up.”

“Yes, no I love it. And I’m sure Liam is thrilled,” she said and flushed a little under the weight of his gaze, “No one’s going to make fun of you, unless Louis saw you-”

“-No, he did. Mate took the piss out of me for three whole minutes.”

“Three whole minutes?” Chloe asked and Niall nodded his head, grinning. “He must have missed you more than I thought.” Niall just shrugged.

He stuffed his hands in his pockets, and bit at his lips. And Chloe really wanted to kiss him, and she needed to step away quickly before she did.  

“Hey-”

“Are you hungry?” Chloe blurted.

“Oh, yeah. Yes,” he said.

“The food’s amazing. Make sure to get some.”

Niall’s face fell a fraction, “I will.”

“I’m going to go check on Holly,” she said sidestepping him and trying not to inhale too deeply like a creep because he smelled so familiar, so much like home and it wasn’t helping the wanting to kiss him thing. He nodded, and she narrowly escaped disaster.

She slipped into the hallway and half-ran to hide in the safety of the foyer, listening to the sounds of the party. It wasn’t that bad, really. Honestly she was fine. And genuinely happy to see Niall, but still, she needed a couple of breaths that weren’t clouded with him. She was beginning to accept the fact that there wasn’t going to be a time in her life when she wasn’t insanely attracted to him, wasn’t drawn to him like a magnet. But she could deal with that. Chloe just didn’t have any time to prepare for seeing him this time. Next time she’d know. She’d be prepared, because she wanted him in her life. Whatever he needed.

“Chloe?” Niall’s voice interrupted her thoughts as she continued to breathe deeply, hidden in the enclosure of the foyer. She allowed herself to peek around the corner and saw him looking down the hall for her but she was safe because his back was turned from her as he knocked on a random door.

“Chloe? Are you in there?” Before she registered which door he was opening, before she could stop him, he turned the knob to the room that held all of Holly’s secrets. The boy’s room frozen in time. She saw him pause and breathe out “What?” before he stepped a fraction more into the room.

Chloe was seconds from leaving the foyer and dragging him out of there, but just then, Holly exited the dining room and saw Niall’s body half in, half out of the room and stormed up the hallway with fury and fear in her eyes. Chloe froze, too panicked to do anything to stop it like watching a car crash in slow motion.

“Niall!” Holly said, voice softer than Chloe expected, when she reached the doorway and saw who had walked into her hidden past.

“I’m sorry,” Chloe heard him say because it was impossible not to feel like you’ve done something wrong standing in that room littered with books and clothes and decades of dust.

“What are you doing in here?” Holly asked, but her voice was muffled now that she had joined Niall in the bedroom and Chloe creeped down the hallway to hear better.

“I was looking for Chloe. I thought she might be hiding in one of the spare rooms. Holly I’m so, so sorry,” Niall explained sounding miserable.

“Yes, she does like to do that, doesn’t she?” Holly answered. The two of them were all the way in the room now, so Chloe came to stand outside the door to hide and listen.

“Holls, whose room is this?” Niall asked after a beat of tense silence.

Chloe could feel her heart beat all over her body and was sure they’d hear it.

“His name was Leonard. We just called him Leo,” Holly said followed by an expectant silence. Holly sighed sounding weary and continued. “They were going up North, my husband and Leo, for a fishing trip. It was going to be his first big trip away from home. And me. They were going to go stargazing, and he was enamoured of the stars, you see. Knew more than thirty constellations by heart. Anyway, he begged me to let him pack his own things, claiming he was big enough, that he didn’t need me to do it.” Chloe heard a creaking sound and some rustling like maybe one of them had sit on the bed.

“Of course, the morning of the trip came, and he hadn’t packed a thing. I was so angry with him, for saying that he didn’t need me to help and for being so negligent. So he ran around his room throwing things in his suit case with the help of his father because I refused to help. We were fighting too, Richard and I, because he was taking Leo’s side, and I just couldn’t let it go.” Harry appeared in the hallway from the parlor with Humphrey in his arms and smiled at her but she shook her head and waved him away. Frowning, he disappeared again.

“I told Leo that he was bad child and that I wouldn’t have his room cleaned before he came back. And I told Richard he was a bad father for letting it go. That I was happy they were leaving because I needed time away from them.” Chloe heard her take a shaky breath. “And that was the last thing I ever said to them. Two hours into their drive north they were hit by a car, and they never came home.”

“ _God_ , Holly,” Niall said, and Chloe could tell he was crying. So was she.

“And I just can’t bring myself to change anything about the room. I can’t. Because he was perfect, and I loved him more than air. He was perfect when he disobeyed, and he was perfect in his mess. I wish those weren’t the last things I said to them. I wish everyday that I had it to do all over again, because I would just simply tell them that they were my life, and I love them.”

Chloe tried to remember the last thing she had said to her father. She tried to remember the last thing she’d ever said to her mom and hoped it was something beautiful. That it was something to cling to as she drifted away. And what was the last thing she had said to Niall when they’d said goodbye ages ago on the icy cold streets of London? Whatever it was, it was wrong. It wasn’t what Niall deserved. It wasn’t the truth.

Not caring if they saw her, Chloe tore her back away from the wall, walked past Leo’s room, making a bee-line for anywhere but there. She pushed past Rosie and Liam in the dining room who tried to stop her once they saw the tear tracks on her face, and into the kitchen.

Except the staff and caterers all looked at her like she had the plague, so she continued past them into the only place where she’ knew she’d be alone, the pantry.

Chloe had been in Holly’s pantry before just once, when Holly had asked her to grab a tin of Humphrey’s food. Chloe pulled on the string to allow herself some light while she caught her breath. Guilt flooded her heart like poison because she had never asked Holly about the room, figuring that it was a secret, that she didn’t talk about it for a reason.

But Holly had confessed to Niall so evenly, so openly, that Chloe felt selfish for laying on Holly’s couch months ago and unloading her secrets without ever asking for any in return. She vowed to make it up to her in some form or another because Chloe refused to be the person who was blind to other’s pain and need because of her own.

Just having caught her breath and drying her face on the sleeve of her dress, Chloe was startled by a warm hand on her back. Turning around she saw Niall with drying tear tracks mirrored on his cheeks. Before she could say anything he encased her in tight hug.

“I didn’t hug you earlier. I should have hugged you,” Niall breathed into her neck.

“I was too busy tripping all over you, I think,” Chloe responded, hiding her face in his shoulder and taking slow, even breaths and dampening his shirt.

“That’s okay,” he said. They allowed themselves a moment just to be. Because it had been months, and Chloe had ached for him. After some time, Niall broke the silence.

“Okay so I’m going to talk now, and I’d really appreciate if you’d listen,” Niall reached up a wiped a tear from beneath her eye with his thumb, “ because I think this might be my last chance and I really don’t want to fuck it up,” he finished. Chloe went to pull away, but he kept his arms tight around her so she just continued to listen and breathe.

“I liked you before I even saw you. I was having a really shit day at work and didn’t want to go help cheer Rosie’s new yank roommate up. Liam basically had to drag me over to your flat. So, I’m pouting on the couch, and then I hear this whirlwind come through the front door, flapping up a storm about toilet paper and crazy old ladies and I just wanted to know you. Then you rounded the corner.  And you were so beautiful, Chloe, and I honestly didn’t know what to do with myself. I was utterly fucked within the first five minutes of meeting you.

“I wanted you so bad that first night. You were so lovely and funny, and I was going to go through with it, too. But, well, I knew myself, Chloe. I knew that I’d fuck it up. That I’d run away, and you’d think that’s all you could ever be to me. And I knew that I wouldn’t get to keep you, so I took the first girl home who looked at me twice.” Chloe had started to shake a bit so Niall gently maneuvered them to sit on the floor, her practically in his lap, and continued rubbing his hands down her back and talked.

“And then we became friends. You were- are- my best friend, and that just made it so much harder each time I wanted to tell you. But I’d play the whole thing out in my head. We’d have fun, but I’d get restless. I would run, and we would both end up heartbroken and hating me. I didn’t feel like I could lose you because everything’s better when you’re around. Everything’s brighter. So I was a coward, a jealous, idiotic coward. Like that week when I was convinced you were dating Harry-” Chloe snorted into his shoulder but didn’t interrupt, “-Hey, it was a valid concern. He’s fit.” Chloe hugged him tighter hoping to convey that the only person she wanted was him.

“Then I had this amazing opportunity, this perfect way to tell you how I felt, and I fucked it all up.” Chloe shuffled a bit to look up at him in confusion. “The Gala, Blondie. I bought you that necklace. I was going to tell you how I felt.  But then Haz freaked me out, and I had too much to drink and I,” Niall pulled her chin up then, to look at her in the eye, “I never meant to treat you like that. I did it all wrong. I was meant to tell you I loved you before I took you to bed.” Chloe choked on a half sob, half laugh because, _what_?  

“Oh, whoops. I practiced this. That was supposed to be my grand finale. I have some more things to say, if that’s alright?” Niall asked thumbing away some of the wetness on her face and tucking a stray curl behind her ear. She nodded for him to continue.

“I’m not here to make excuses for myself. I’m not, but I do want to explain. After my mom left us, I saw what it did to my dad. I saw what it did to my family, and I figured, from a pretty young age, that it wasn’t worth it. I didn’t think people should belong to each other like that. So that’s how I decided I wanted to live my life. Free from obligations, free from hurt. And I was so terrified of turning into my mom. And then I did anyway.” Chloe shook her head at him and ran her palms up his arms to reassure him.

“Chloe, I left you alone in the middle of the night in my bed in Ireland. I didn’t even say goodbye. And I can’t even begin to think about how much that must have fucked with your head because you gave me everything that night, and then I left you. It’s one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do in my life, but I still did it. I took that as further proof of what a peice of shit I was and how you deserved someone so much better than me. For a while, I convinced myself that in hurting you, I had saved you.” Niall took a long, deep breath before he continued.

“But, I’m not her. And I’m not my dad or my brother. I’m my own person. And now I feel like I know who I am. I know what I want. And I’m not going to hide from it anymore. I’m not going to hide from you.” Chloe started to grin, feeling light headed and impatient.

“One more thing and then I’m done, okay?” She nodded.

“It’s still a struggle, thinking I’m worthy of you. Like when I saw you come out of that kitchen just now. I took one look at you, and it was like the first time all over again. Because _Jesus_ , Chloe do you even know how incredible you are? I love you so much, and I’m serious about it. Sometimes I feel like it’s the only thing I know how to do. It just took me a while to realize that it’s not a bad thing, that I shouldn’t hide it from you. Because loving you feels like it’s woven in with the best parts of myself. It’s not going away. I don’t want it to. I love you, and I want to be with you because us not being together is a ridiculously bad idea. But that’s just my opinion. I’d love yours.”

Chloe felt like she was flying apart, in the best possible way. It felt like light was shining out through her eyes, fingertips, smile.

“You have to know, Niall. You have to know,” she said and grabbed his face in her hands.

“I thought maybe. Sometimes you’d look at me, and I hoped,” he said placing his shaking hands over hers on his face pressing them harder into his skin, wanting to feel her.

“I love you, Niall. I’m in love with you. And it’s not going away, and I don’t want it to,” she said, echoing his words as he surged forward to kiss her. It was very wet, very messy. Both of them had been crying, both of them were smiling too wide to kiss properly, but they belonged to each other now so really there was no rush. Niall pulled back and brought their cheeks together rubbing against her face like a cat and she tilted her face so their foreheads touched and they could breathe in each other’s air.

The kissing grew frantic very quickly. Niall pulled her up and back in his lap so she was straddling him, her legs wrapped around his back, his hands on her lower back and face. It was different than any other time she’d kissed him. There were no questions in his kiss anymore, no hesitation or second guessing, just answers and yeses and love. The memory of his hands on her skin from months ago had lingered, and it felt like he’d never left. Nothing compared to him, nothing felt better.

He pushed his body into hers and broke away from her mouth to rest his forehead on her bare sternum and kiss the space between her breasts, his hands came down to cup her ass and squeezed. Chloe’s eyes flew wide open and she threw her head back. He lifted her up and placed her on her back as he hovered above her, her legs still wrapped around his middle.

“I love you,” Niall said again as he traced the outline of her face with his fingertips.

“I love you,” Chloe said back as she placed her hand over his frantic heart.

Niall leaned back and ran his hands over her stomach and the inside of her thighs.

“Wait, Niall,” she said and his face immediately fell as he took his hands off her like they’d been burned. Chloe was horrified.  

“No,” she surged up and kissed him again. “Not like that. I want you. So bad. Right now. It’s just that I don’t want our first time really together to be in Holly’s pantry surrounded by one hundred cans of cat food and caviar.”  Niall’s face relaxed into his signature cocky grin, one she’d seen him use on other girls dozens of times. But now it was hers. He was hers.

“You want me?” he laid over her again but didn’t go further, just teased her with kisses on her face and neck.

“I think, oh,” Niall pulled the shoulder of her dress down and began biting gently at her collarbone, “I think that’s quite obvious.” She panted. “ _Niall!_ ” she squeaked as he moved up and bit her earlobe.

“Just checking,” he said and rolled off of her. Choe immediately missed the weight of him. “I don’t know why you don’t want me to go down on you in this pantry,” he teased grabbing her hand and holding it over his chest. “I, for one, find the Salmon and Trout cat food rather romantic.”  Niall kissed her hand and heaved himself off the floor pulling Chloe with him. Standing, he backed her into the shelf and kissed her again, slow and with purpose.

“I wish we didn’t have to go talk to our friends. Wish I could just take you home,” he breathed into her mouth. She tangled her hands in his hair and tugged his face back so she could meet his eyes, hazy and so, so blue. She had missed his eyes.

“Our friends have missed you. I think it would be nice for you to at least say hi,” she said.

“But I’ve waited so long,” he whined and pouted, chasing her mouth again.

“I think you can wait for sex for another hour,” she teased allowing him to kiss her again.

“Hey,” he pulled back immediately, “it’s not just that. I mean I do really want to be with you right now. But I want everything. I want to be there when you wake up. I want to make up for the shit I put you through,” Niall said fiercely.

“Niall, you’re not the only one who has things to apologize for. I fucked up too. We both fucked up,” she said. “I’m sorry too, I’m sorry for not telling you how I felt, for being so messed up in my head and refusing to see the truth right in front of me. I’m incredibly sorry that you didn’t feel how much I love you.”

He shook his head and helped her straighten out her dress and hair.

“Let’s go talk to our friends,” Niall said.

“Yes, let’s,” she agreed and they laced their fingers together.

________

They made it thirty-eight minutes before they left. When they emerged from the pantry, the caterer looked thoroughly annoyed and grossed out which seemed to please Niall because he threw the guy a thumbs up and kissed Chloe on the cheek.

The party was another story. Rosie and Liam were the first to notice their intertwined hands and flush faces. They rushed over to them and wrapped them up in hugs. Liam said something about “double dating”, so Niall gently pulled Chloe over to the food so he could eat and fondly roll his eyes. But the pleased smile on his face told Chloe they’d be going on a double-date at least once a week.

When Harry saw their interlaced fingers he rushed over with triumph on his face and not just because Humphrey was dozing in his arms having finally agreed to wear his birthday crown.

“This is incredible,” Harry beamed at them. “But hey, Niall. Hurt her again and I’ll break both your arms!” He said in the same enthusiastic tone. Chloe pinched his side, but Niall just kissed her on the cheek and whispered “I love you” in her ear.

“This doesn’t mean you’re allowed to spend any less time with me. Or be any less fun,” Louis said when he saw them, but he was smiling like the sun, his eyes crinkled at the corners as he hugged them both at the same time. When he pulled back, he twisted Niall’s nipple. “You moving back in?” Louis asked.

“Dick,” Niall said and hit him in the arm. “Yeah. ‘Course.”

Holly’s reaction had been her favorite. She’d caught Niall just as he turned his head to kiss Chloe chastely on the mouth.

“Well it’s about bloody time!” she snapped and caused them to flinch apart and then grin bashfully when half the party stopped to look at them. Holly came up and grabbed both their hands, tears shining in her eyes and looked Niall square in the eye. “Don’t forget what I said.” And Niall nodded seriously at her. “Now what are you still doing here?” she jerked her head toward the foyer.

“But I should help-”

“If you think kissing in my pantry is helping, you’re sorely mistaken,” Holly admonished but winked at them and pushed them towards the door.

Once they were out in the hallway, having collected Niall’s suitcase and saying hasty goodbyes to their friends, promising to meet up for early season footie in the park the next day, Niall whispered, “I think Holly just gave us permission to fornicate.”

“You’re the _worst_ ,” Chloe said as she pushed him into the elevator and against the wall and kissed his mouth.

________

Chloe was shaking, hard. The only thing grounding her was Niall’s hand on her stomach pressing her down into the bed.

“Niall, I don’t think I can. I don’t think I can,” she panted, and she could feel him smirk against her. She tried to push him off with her foot on his shoulder but missed; her leg just flopped to the side. Niall captured her thigh again with his hand and pushed it up and he moved his fingers in and out of her faster.

“Yes you can, come on,” he encouraged and then settled right back down to where he’d been camped for the past half hour. Her stomach was tight, heaving breaths in and out trying to thrash away but he just took his hand off her thigh and anchored her stomach once more. It only took the right, insistent press of his fingers, and she was coming for the third time since they’d stumbled in her bedroom and he had pushed her back on the bed, shoved her dress up and her underwear down and hadn’t let up since.

“Niall, please,” she whacked him on the head and he finally drew back, grinning and exhausted scooting up a fraction to pillow his head on her belly.

“Do you need me to,” she said and attempted to sit up, but her body felt like jello and her mind blissfully blank.

“No, Blondie, go to sleep,” he said as he wrapped his arms around her middle and kissed her stomach. His scruff tickled her belly a bit, but they both settled once she wove a hand in his hair.

“Love you,” he said into her skin.

“Love you.”

________________

When Chloe woke up, the sun had set, and Niall hadn’t moved from his position on her stomach snoring and drooling a little. For her, it felt like an eternity had passed from the morning to now, and replaying it in her head, it seemed like scenes from someone else’s life, a life with kept promises and happy endings. A life a year ago she’d never have felt deserving of, or would belong to her.

She ran her fingers through Niall’s hair and allowed herself to revel in the joy of loving him. The tiny, simple pleasure of laying down with someone who’d chosen her above all others, and she him. Chloe promised to never take it for granted, to never let him doubt her or himself again.

And they still had so much to talk about, so much to work through. And it would be a fight every day because that that’s the way life is, but Chloe was done sitting around waiting for signs or for everything to be perfect and fall into place. Nothing would ever be perfect. Everything couldn’t all be in the right place. But some things could. She understood now, that nothing was permanent. She would always lose people. To time, to death, to the slow forward drive of life and change. And it was so freeing, just to let go, just to be there in a moonlit room listening to Niall breathe against her skin. Feeling his weight anchoring her.  

Now she was ready to love him the way he deserved, with nothing held back, no fear or doubt. They were worthy of each other because they themselves finally felt like they deserved it. And Chloe knew loving him made her a better person.

Here in her tiny London flat with the moon shining through her curtains and onto Niall’s skin, Chloe finally knew what true love was. Because it was lying on top of her, because it made her brave, and it wasn’t holding her hostage anymore.

Niall stirred a bit after a few moments of her hands in his hair rubbing his face on her stomach, his scruff tickling her. She laughed and tried to wiggle away.

‘Hiya, blondie,” he yawned and sat up on his knees to stretch.

“Hi,” she replied.

“I’m very sleepy,” he said but began tracing his fingers up and down her legs.

“Oh really?” she answered, shivering a little but reached over to her nightstand to pull out a condom and throw it at his face.

“Sexy,” he laughed catching it easily with one hand and falling down on his arms to kiss her. He was slightly sleep sweaty and his mouth was chapped and rough. She could taste herself on his mouth, reminder of how sensitive she’d be. It sent a thrill going up her spine as they kissed. Chloe was very sure she’d never get tired of this, his mouth on hers. She began to unbutton his pants and pushed them past his ass, getting her hand on him. She was slow, teasing about it, a payback for earlier, and it wasn’t long till he slapped her hand away and replaced it with his own, trying to get the condom on but his hands were shaking too badly.

“Niall,” she covered his hands with her own to steady him.

“Last time I- I just want it to be perfect,” he replied not meeting her eye.

“It already is,” she said and rubbed his forearms.

“Cheese ball,” he said back but leaned down to give her another kiss, grateful and calm.

“And how are you doing?” he asked and lowered his fingers down to rub at her, grinning wolfishly when she gasped, and he found her still wet and responsive.

‘Don’t make fun. You made me come three times, Niall,” she said and bit off a cry when he sped up.

“I know. I’m gonna tell everyone,” he said as he kneeled on the bed and grabbed her arm to pull her up and helped her swing her leg over his lap to straddle him.

“Don’t you dare,” she breathed. Then she sunk down onto him in one swift movement, and they both cried out into each other’s mouths. They moved in sync, but so slow. Chloe held onto his back with all her strength and buried her face in his shoulder, gasping with each movement. Last time they’d been so frantic, so rushed and hurried thinking it was their last moments together. Now they took time to explore each other with no other prerogative then to be together. She didn’t have to hold anything back now.

God, she loved him so much.

But Niall grew impatient and pushed her on her back, buried his face in her neck, and sped up. It was ruthless and Chloe loved him for it. She loved him for a lot of things. Chloe just held on tighter and drew him in with her legs around his middle and fingernails gripped his shoulder blades, meeting him with every thrust.

Soon though, Niall drew back to look her in the eye sweating and panting and pulled her arms off him so he could lace their fingers together next to her head on the bed. It took no time at all for them to come, Chloe because it was her fourth time and Niall because it was his first.

As they came down, they clung to each other again, like they had earlier in the pantry, panting and sticky and a little gross and perfect.

“Love you,” Niall whispered, his fists in her hair.

‘Love you,” Chloe whispered back.

This time when they said it, it felt like a promise. It felt like forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter! Thanks for reading and sticking with me. Thanks to Cassie my beta, my queen! There will be an epilogue so you don't have to say goodbye just yet! Love you all. 
> 
> -Candice


	9. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alright. Here it is. I’m so sorry this took over a year to post. It’s not beta’d so feel free to point out anything that needs fixing. 
> 
> Thanks to everyone that encouraged me to write this, thanks to Cassie for teaching me how to not write crap, and thanks for everyone who read, left comments and kudos, and were just really nice to me about the whole thing.   
> I’m very emotional that it’s actually over so come talk to me!   
> xxxx

 

Chapter playlist: 

<https://open.spotify.com/user/1260911781/playlist/311sco6B6N9FMkxowXx1j8>

 

 

*********

 

Chloe had mastered many things she’d always wanted to by twenty-six. She knew how to make the perfect omelette, could change a tire, and Niall was teaching her how to play the guitar. She knew fifteen whole cords now, thank you very much. 

 

But she still couldn’t walk in heels. 

 

So walking on freshly buffed wooden floors that gleamed as beautifully as stained glass in four inch heels? A recipe for disaster. She might as well have been walking on two tall, wet bars of soap. Also, high heels are pointless and stupid. So.

 

Chloe was so focused on not breaking an ankle that she didn’t notice someone rounding the corner right in front of her. 

 

“Oi!” Niall yelped as he rounded the corner and almost ran into Chloe who had finally bent down to take her shoes off in defeat. He immediately slapped his hand over his eyes and stumbled back. 

 

“Niall, what-” Chloe laughed as she straightened up and tried to pry his hand away from his face. 

 

“Stop!” he cried out backing himself into the wall of the hall, knocked into a tall, dark wooden hall table, and almost upended a rather expensive looking antique vase. “I’m not supposed to see you till the ceremony!” 

 

Chloe managed to catch the vase just before it fell to the floor. “Niall, you know that’s only the rule if we’re the ones getting married, right?”

 

“Yeah, but, best man and maid of honor,” he complained, but peeked through his fingers at her anyway. “I wanted it to be a surprise!” 

 

“This dress has been hanging in our closet for six months!” 

 

“But the whole effect is ruined!” He griped, then sighed. “That’s it,” he said, and tugged her into a hug, “cancel the wedding. Tell Liam and Rosie they’ll have to do the whole thing over. It’s bad luck now.” 

 

“You’re probably right,” Chloe agreed. 

 

“I’m always right,” Niall corrected and kissed her on the head as she buried her face his in shoulder, not caring if it smudged her makeup a little. No one would be looking at her anyway. It was Rosie’s day. 

 

“You smell good,” she said and gave his suit jacket a loud and appreciative sniff. 

 

“Liam gave us cologne as a thank you,” Niall explained, detaching her from his chest to look her full in the face. “It’s Tom Ford.” 

 

“Harry’s idea?” Chloe asked and Niall nodded. “I really like when you wear a suit.” Chloe tugged on the lapels of his jacket and ran her fingers down the silk of his tie.  

 

“You know, I said something about that to Liam and I think that’s why he chose suits for the wedding and not trackies like Louis suggested,” Niall replied and trapped her fingers in his so he could drag her hand up to his mouth to kiss the back of it. 

 

“So you could get laid?” Chloe asked and tried to hide her smile. 

 

“Yup!” 

 

“He’s a good friend, that Liam.” 

 

“The best,” Niall agreed and leaned in to kiss her for several long seconds. “You look really pretty,” he said when he drew back. “I always love you in red.” 

 

“I know, that’s why I insisted.” She hadn’t.  

 

“Looks like we’re both getting lucky tonight!” Niall cheered loud enough that it echoed down the endless hallway. 

 

“Who said anything about tonight?” Chloe said and reached around him to turn the handle of the door right behind him. When the door swung open easily she pushed him in and, from the neatly lined up boots next to the bed, she recognized it as Harry’s room. 

 

Niall pulled her fully in the room, shut the door behind her, pushed her up against it, and kissed her again, gently. They took their time with each other, like they always did, even though their best friends were getting married in less than twenty minutes. 

 

“We can’t,” Niall said in between kisses, but made no attempt to slow down. 

 

“Harry will never know,” Chloe argued and tried to push him back towards the immaculately made bed. 

 

“Can’t wrinkle the suit,” Niall said, took her wrists in his hands, and pushed her slowly back against the door again. 

 

“You can’t wrinkle a suit!” Chloe lied and half-heartedly tried to push him back. “Take it the fuck off,” she demanded and tried to lower her hands to the button on his pants. He just distracted her by kissing her again and running his thumbs on the insides of her wrists. 

 

“Please?” she purred and looked up at him through her eyelashes. “All this true-love wedding nonsense is really getting to me.” 

 

It wasn’t a lie. They’d been at Liam’s parents house, well mini castle more like, for most of the week and the flowers, speeches, and champagne were really getting her. It was like Valentine's day on steroids because Liam and Rosie were so disgustingly and perfectly in love that it was sort of catching. Not that Chloe didn’t already love Niall more than anyone had ever loved someone before, it’s just that the lovey dovey nonsense was getting under her skin. 

 

And it didn’t help that between the stag parties, planning, and last minute fittings and decorating, Chloe and Niall had barely any time for each other, too busy during the days to sneak away, too tired at night to be intimate. It was a harsh contrast to their normal sex lives where they were, frankly, insatiable. When they’d first dove into a relationship they wanted each other all the time and Chloe had been worried it would fade, grow stale like other boyfriend’s she’d had. It hadn’t. Harry called them “passionate” Louis called them “bunnies” but whatever it was, Chloe never wanted it to stop. She can’t get enough of her boyfriend. Sue her. The past few days of nothing more than quick pecks had been torture. 

 

And now, with Niall finally showing her some attention, she’d go crazy if he left before he touched her properly. 

 

“I’d like to take this opportunity to point out that I have more self control that you,” Niall said. 

 

Chloe rolled her eyes. “If I agree with you, will you take your pants off?” 

 

“Jesus, Blondie. I’m starting to think you only want me for my body.” He smirked down at her, pressed against her, and ran his nose up and down her neck.  

 

“And it only took you three years to notice.” Chloe pushed back into him hoping he was finally giving in. 

 

“How about this,” Niall said as he transferred both her wrists to one hand. 

 

“I help you out now, and you return the favor after we take pictures so Rosie doesn’t kill me.” Chloe nodded her head and let him move his other hand down to lift up the soft lace of her dress as he slipped his warm hand into her underwear. She couldn’t find it in herself to be embarrassed at the noises she made, and how Niall found her a little wet already just at the thought of being with him. Besides, Niall’s always as bad as her. Worse, actually. 

  
  
  


Sometimes when she’s sitting at their kitchen table paying bills in just her sweats, hair thrown up, and sipping tea Niall will disrupt her by pulling the chair out and laying her on the cold tile of the floor and taking her apart for ages. She’ll wake up to his fingers ghosting her skin and slipping inside her. Sometimes his head will be on her stomach, so close, just waiting for her to wake up so he can properly get his mouth on her. On cold, dreary London days, Niall will slip in the shower with her and they’ll get each other off in the lazy heat of the steam. Chloe affectionately calls him her “little irish horndog”. 

 

So, he’s just as bad as she is, if not worse, but Niall sometimes gets bashful about the things he’d whispered in her ear when he’s inside of her, or the days he didn’t let her get out of bed before noon so he relished in any opportunity he can prove he’s not the only one who’s embarrassingly obsessed with the other’s body.   

 

He jokes about it a lot, how badly he wants her all the time, but she can sometimes sense his underlying insecurity that she doesn’t love him as much, want him as much. He’d said as much, in moments of doubt, or when they’d fight because Chloe learned early on Niall’s jealousy is rooted in his fears that she’ll leave him; that he’s not good enough for her. And, at any given moment, she will pack her bags and leave. He believes, in moments of doubt, that it’s inevitable. When he sees that someone is interested in her he’ll get angry in only the way that Niall can get, quiet and moody and so, so obviously mean to whomever it is. But only because he thinks that if Chloe  _ were _ to chose someone else over him, she’d be justified and he’d understand. It doesn’t happen all the time, and the longer they stayed together the less often it happens. 

 

But. Still. 

 

There are days she’d watched Niall wake up and look surprised that she hasn’t packed a bag in the middle of the night to never come back. They’re almost nonexistent now; not like the first couple of months of their relationship where he’d look at her a dozen times a day like he was asking if what he was doing was okay, if him being in her life, him kissing her and telling Chloe he loves her, was really what she wanted. That was gone, but it didn’t stop her from telling him a hundred times a day, in a hundred different little ways that she loves him. That she loves him so much that it sometimes feels like she’d burst apart because how can someone carry all that love around with them all the time, how could it possibly be contained inside her body? 

 

She wanted to show him now. 

 

“Ni,” she whined, chasing his hand as it slowly teased her. 

 

“Hmmm?” 

 

“Come on, you know what,” she panted, pleading at him with her eyes. 

 

“Oh, you mean this,” he said, grinned, and pushed his fingers inside of her, going fast right away, knowing it never takes her long to come that way. 

 

Chloe threw her head back against the door with a  _ thunk  _ and let herself relax into his touch. 

 

“You look so fucking pretty today,” he said. “Gonna let me fuck you later?” Chloe gasped out in response. Somewhere in the back of her mind she wondered why was he even asking such a stupid question? Yes. Of course. Right now, actually please and thank you.  “Think I’ll have you keep the dress on,” Niall said and let go of her wrists. She immediately grabbed his shoulders and held on for dear life. He took his other hand to pull her underwear down her thighs so he could watch his own work which, even though he’d made her come a thousand different times in the craziest of ways, it still sometimes made her blush when he looks at her the way he was right then, intense and pleased. 

 

After he got a good look, Niall surged forward to kiss her again, lazy and slow, a direct contrast to his fingers. 

 

“Niall,” she pulled her mouth away from his, slapped her hand down over his, and pressed his palm against herself, Niall got the picture and pressed his heel against her in slow, hard circles until she came, hard and loud. Niall kissed her through it, while he continued to thrust his fingers inside of her. 

 

“Want to go again?” Niall asked, casual and cocky. If Chloe didn’t love him more than anything, she’d hate him. 

 

“Yes, but no,” Chloe managed after a moment, and Niall pouted but took his hand away, pulled her underwear back up, and helped her straighten her dress out.

 

He kissed her again and disappeared into the ensuite bathroom as Chloe straightened her dress to the the sound of water running. When he emerged a minute later, he was holding a cream colored envelope. 

 

“I was actually supposed to do something before you distracted me,” Niall said and handed her an envelope labeled  _ Rosie  _ in Liam’s boxy handwriting. 

 

“It’s not my fault you can’t control yourself. Honestly, Niall,” Chloe quipped. He bit down on his grin and tried to snatch the envelope back. Chloe was faster though, danced out of reach, and produced a similar envelope from her dress pocket for Liam. Rosie’s elegant script was etched on the envelope. 

 

“This whole not seeing each other before the wedding thing is a tad antiquated, don’t you think?” Chloe asked him as they left Harry’s now defiled guestroom. 

 

“I don’t know, I kind of like it,” Niall said. “I think for our,” Niall turned bright red and coughed on his words, “I mean - it’s romantic.” 

 

It wasn’t the first time that week that Niall had let something like that slip, which for them, was a little strange. For as committed Niall and Chloe were to forever with each other they had never talked about marriage. Not even in the abstract “someday” sort of way that some couples do. Both of them had watched strained marriages tear their families apart. And besides that, she’d never been too keen on the idea anyway. Who needs a piece of paper from the government to prove the validity of forever love? 

 

Still. It didn’t stop a zing of excitement from flying up her spine everytime Niall had slipped up that week. She’d realized several days ago, after he’d told Harry that for  _ his _ stag-do he wanted to go to on a camping trip, that was taking mental notes. Plans for the future. Like he believed enough in them to believe in marriage itself. Even if he never acted on it, Chloe still considered it one of the deepest declarations of love Niall had ever given her. 

 

She picked her shoes back up off the floor she’d left just outside Harry’s door and tipped up on her toes to kiss Niall again. 

 

“Next time you see me, I’ll be walking down the aisle,” Chloe said. Niall’s face turned a bright red, and honestly of all the things in the last ten minutes to make Niall blush, it would be wedding talk. “I’ll be the one  _ not _ in white.”

 

“Right,” he choked out and backed away. “I’m this way,” he thumbed over his shoulder and tripped on edge of a carpet to the adjoining hallway and Chloe felt the balance in their relationship restored once more. 

 

_________________

 

Rosie was as relaxed as ever moments before walking down the aisle. Nothing fazed her. Ever. Chloe was nervous she’d faceplant in the grass and checked every five seconds to make sure she had the ring in her pocket. She fussed over Rosie’s train and made sure all the bridesmaids were accounted for. But Rosie just chatted away with her dad like it was any other day.

 

They were in the sun room at the back of the house. The large windows faced out onto the expansive grounds of the Payne’s house. The chairs were set up in a perfect picture against the long, man-made pond. The the huge reception tent was just next to it. It was a beautiful day, and hundreds of guests were sat waiting for the big moment. Standing up next to Liam was Niall, and next to him were Louis and Harry. They chatted at Liam, who fidgeted and bounced on his heels, clearly nervous even from a distance because he kept doing that eyebrow itching thing he always did when he wasn’t totally at ease. 

 

“Honestly, I think they’re going to fall off one of these days,” Rosie said, and linked her arm with Chloe’s as the wedding planner set up some last minute details with the sound tech. 

 

“His eyebrows?” Chloe asked. 

 

“Yes, which would be such a shame because they’re so beautiful,” Rosie said not a hint of a joke in her voice. Red hearts might as well be dancing around her head.  

 

Chloe laughed at how absurd it all was. Loving someone so much you think their eyebrows are beautiful. Loving someone so much you want to spend the rest of your life with them. It filled her with a joyful warmth that despite everything Liam and Rosie had been through, former heartbreak and rejection, loss and pain, that they were still taking the biggest risk together, and on each other. A risk of faith. Chloe used to think it was stupid, outright hubris, for anyone to think they could beat the odds. That they could be the ones to last. Now she sees it as brave. Love makes people brave. It did for her, at least. 

 

From the window Chloe could see Ed setting up on the tiny stage in front of the guests. He adjusted his guitar strap as the guests craned their heads around for a better look. Chloe still just thought of him as Ed, Niall’s semi boss and their close friend, but to most other people he was  _ Ed Sheeran. _ In the months after their first tour Ed hit it big. Worldwide big. After a song of his soared to popularity seemingly overnight, he and the band were plunged into the spotlight. It hadn’t been easy, Niall's gone several months of the year, and with Chloe’s promotion at UNICEF, it was more difficult for her to take time off. But they made it work, they always do. 

 

And Chloe wasn’t going to complain about going to the Brit Awards two years in a row. The food spreads there are always fantastic and untouched. And, okay, she did spill wine on her dress the first time she’d met Adele which was horrifying, but she was a doll about it. It’s continues to be strange, though, that Niall’s now semi-famous in some circles and has almost a million instagram followers. 

 

“Time to line up, ladies,” the wedding planner ordered. 

 

Chloe gave Rosie one last hug and handed her over to her father, who already looked teary. Rosie just affectionately rolled her eyes and kissed him on the cheek. Chloe saw the boys ushering grandparents down the aisle and willed her nerves away. 

 

Ed started the first chords of  _ Love Me Tender  _ and the first bridesmaids began the long march through the door and onto the grounds. 

 

“Last chance to back out,” Chloe stage whispered and reached behind herself to grab Rosie’s hand.

 

“Nah, better not. Liam’s proper loaded,” Rosie whispered and squeezed back. 

 

Before Chloe could blink, it was her turn. The length of the grass to the aisle was ridiculously long and Chloe managed it with little difficulty, but was relieved nonetheless when she came upon the harder material of the aisle. 

 

Toward the back of the guests she spotted Holly easily with her tall hat and the proud, almost ridiculous appearance of Fitzwilliam seated next to her.  _ Fitzwilliam _ . An anomaly of a human whom Holly refers to, in sincerity, as her “gentleman caller”. He was just there one day when Chloe and Niall showed up for tea wearing an ascot and smoking a pipe like he wasn’t the most ridiculous person in the world. He’d swanned about like a character in a satirical play about London’s upper crust and by the end of tea, had invited Niall to go hunting with him on his estate in Scotland. It had been two years of Holly and Fitz and still, Chloe knew almost nothing about him other than he told meandering stories about his traveling days and he makes Holly glow with happiness. Chloe winked at them on her way down the aisle as Holly tried pass off the blotting of her tears with a fake sneeze, muttering to Fitz about allergies. 

 

After she passed them, Chloe looked ahead trying not to cry herself and focused on Niall who beamed at her. The path seemed to tunnel a bit and the people in the seats blurred in her periphery so he was the only clear thing she could see. And... it should have scared her, staring at him while she walked down the aisle to one of the most romantic songs of all time feeling all eyes on her. It felt too much like a premonition, like practice for the real thing. But it didn’t. Scare her, that is. At all. 

 

When she finally made it, she winked at Liam and stuck her tongue out at Louis. Behind him she saw Harry throw her a look that spelled out his disapproval, his eyebrows were furrowed and his mouth pinched, but Louis grabbed his side till he smiled again. So Chloe glanced back again at Niall who, it seemed, hadn’t taken his eyes of her. He just glowed at her, smile wide and unreserved. Even when Ed started singing  _ Maybe I’m Amazed  _ and she could hear the collective attendees stand for Rosie’s entrance and Liam’s gasp when he finally saw her, Niall didn’t break eye contact. Everything just fell away. Her nerves and jitters, the noise and shuttering of a camera’s lense faded into hazy bliss.

 

It was just the two of them standing in the sunshine wonderfully in love.   

 

And, for the first time in her life Chloe thought,  _ maybe _ . Maybe she could marry someone, as long as it was Niall. Maybe. 

 

The ceremony was short but lovely. Harry cried. Louis cried harder. Liam cried the hardest, and Rosie wiped his tears off as he choked out his vows. Chloe would have found it in herself to be embarrassed for them if she wasn’t just as bad. But Niall just beamed at her unwavering, looking at little drunk off happiness. After it was over, he practically bounced her down the aisle on his arm like they were the ones everyone was clapping for.

 

The pictures seemed to take ages mostly because Chloe felt high on love and needed to make good on her owed favor to Niall. The second the photographer shot the last frame she led Niall back into the house, shoved him in an obliging closet, and sunk to her knees. 

 

They were twenty minutes late to cocktails.

 

_________

 

“Seriously?” Louis said when Niall and Chloe tried to slip into the tent unnoticed. “You guys couldn’t wait?” 

 

Niall grabbed two champagne flutes and handed one to Chloe. 

 

“Don’t know what you’re talking about mate,” Niall said and threw an arm around Chloe’s waist. 

 

“I’m talking, Niall, about the fact that you two can’t spend more than an hour in our company without running off to have semi-public sex,” Louis snarked and finished the rest of his beer. 

 

“That’s not true,” Chloe defended, “we lasted through all of Star Wars in the theatre without doing the do.”

 

“Twice,” Niall added. 

 

“Yeah, twice.” Chloe kissed Niall’s cheek and tried to look as innocent as possible, but he just looked like the cat that got the cream, smug and unashamed. 

 

“And, excuse me, but I’m not going to be judged about class by a guy who’s drinking Corona at a wedding with top shelf liquor and hundred pound bottles of wine,” Chloe said. “Where did you even get that? Did you sneak it in?” Chloe asked. Louis just gave her a shit eating grin in response. 

 

“Oh my GOD you snuck it in, you absolute scamp!” 

 

“She’s found you out, mate,” Harry said and threw his arm over Louis’ shoulder. “Forget these boring couples. Let's go talk to bridesmaids.” And with that Louis and Harry weaved through the milling wedding guests in search of girls. 

 

Chloe grabbed hors d'oeuvres off a passing platter for them and handed what looked like tuna tar tar off to Niall, who made a face at it. She popped in it her mouth instead. 

 

“I don’t think we’re boring, do you?” Niall asked. 

 

“No,” Chloe answered automatically. She’d just gone down on him in a broom closet. They were far from boring. A little soppy at the current moment. But never boring. 

 

“Don’t think Harry would call us boring if he knew what we did in his room earlier. How I had my fingers in-” 

 

“I would pause that conversation if I were you,” Holly said from behind Niall, having appeared out of nowhere with Fitz in tow. 

 

“Sorry, Holls,” Niall said, kissed her cheek, and offered Fitz his hand to shake. 

 

“You look lovely, Chloe dear,” Holly said. 

 

“ _ You _ look lovely! I love that hat,” Chloe answered as they embraced. It was quick as Holly’s aversion to public affection hadn’t changed in the years Chloe had known her. She seemed to store up affection for special occasions like holidays and apparently, weddings. 

 

“You think? Fitz chose it. I thought it was a little over the top but he took the time to pick it out and I didn’t want to disappoint him-”

 

“It’s lovely,” Chloe said. 

 

“It is, isn’t it!” Holly relented and held her head up high looking like a majestic bird and one of the feathers danced in the breeze. “Fitz has very refined taste.” Chloe nodded in agreement. 

 

An alarm started to sound from inside Holly’s purse and she pulled out Humphrey’s cat shaped feeding timer. Something she  _ still _ never left the house without. Humphrey is now the oldest cat alive, Chloe’s sure. “I should call the nanny to check up on Humphrey, just to make sure everything is tip-top.” 

 

Chloe nodded and kissed Holly on the cheek again before she stepped out of the tent and towards the house. Holly still refused to get a mobile despite Niall offering to show her how it worked. She’d looked downright scandalized the day Niall suggested making Humphrey an instagram account. He might as well have suggested they dance naked in Hyde Park. 

 

“Wonderful wedding,” Fitz said taking a mighty drink from his scotch. 

 

“I thought so,” Chloe agreed. 

 

“You two will be next, mark my words,” he said, slapped Niall on the shoulder hard, and disappeared after Holly. 

 

Turning to Niall so they could share a look of exasperation (Niall and she always hated how much pressure the people around them gave them about getting married, like it’s Victorian England and they have to secure a the trading of land and not the 21st century)  but she just found Niall rosy-cheeked and pleased. 

 

“What?” she asked, placed her drink down, and slipped her arms around his waist. It wasn’t that Niall wasn’t normally affectionate. He’s pretty tactile with everyone, but he was downright giddy today and Chloe felt like taking advantage of it. He’d been so openly sweet, so giving in his affection Chloe felt high on it. 

 

“Nothing,” he responded and kissed her on the lips and she hugged him tighter, resting her head on his shoulder. Chloe watched the wedding guest mingle and counted moments passing by Niall’s steady heartbeat. 

 

Rosie and Liam were making their way around to the guests, greeting them hand in hand looking happier than they ever had. Which was saying a lot of the two most cheerful people Chloe knew. Harry and Louis were holding court with a small mob of bridesmaids and Rosie’s friends from Uni, young pretty women and men hanging on their every word. For the thousandth time, Chloe was so grateful to know them, that of all the flatmates in all of London Rosie chose her. 

 

Years ago Chloe felt like a cloud followed her everywhere she went. Like she must have broken a dozen mirrors for her proverbial string of bad luck and failed relationships. Niall had taught her so much. He’s almost never in a bad mood, he always takes the little things in stride. Things that would have sent Chloe into a tailspin of anxiety and doubt not so long ago, she’d now laugh off and quickly refocus. The little things never seemed to get to him and Chloe found herself taking comfort in his sunny, happy- go- lucky attitude. His joyful disposition seemed to protect her from the wear and tear of daily living. She loved him fiercely for it. 

 

The wedding planner snapped her out of her reverie. “It’s time to get started,” she said. Chloe’s stomach dropped. Public speaking wasn’t her favorite, especially not when she was sure to cry. 

 

“You’ll do fine,” Niall said detaching from her and kissing her on the temple. 

 

“Easy for you to say. You get up in front of thousands of people all the time,” she snipped back, nerves getting to her. 

 

“To play guitar,” he said and hooked his arm around her shoulder to lead her towards the front table. 

 

“Still I-”

 

“Just focus on making Louis cry in front of the girl he’s so desperately trying to impress,” Niall said, indicating with his free hand the pretty brunette that was laughing particularly hard at something Louis just said. She must really like him; Louis is funny, but he’s not that funny. 

 

“Best plan. You’re amazing. I love you so much,” Chloe said with a deadpan sincerity.

 

“Love you too,” he echoed and they detached to take their seats on on opposites sides of Liam and Rosie.  

 

The soup and salad were delicious, but Chloe found it hard to eat staring at her index speech cards feeling the words were all wrong. She’d spent ages on it. Writing and rewriting, using Niall as a guinea pig for the humor which, in retrospect, was a bad idea because Niall laughs at anything and everything. It’s a lovely quality, but he’s terrible at giving honest feedback. It’s probably why Harry thinks himself a proper comedian now. 

 

Rosie’s dad kicked off the speeches and managed to make everyone cry, Liam especially when he talked about gaining a son and Liam’s mom only made it worse when it was her turn to talk about how proud his father would have been of him. By the time it was Chloe’s turn, she knew her ‘funny’ speech was crap. She’d purposefully avoided writing what she knew she should say because the thought of crying in front of a bunch of strangers hadn’t really appealed to her. 

 

Karen handed the microphone to her when she was finished. Chloe took a look at Rosie and Liam’s open and expectant faces, spared a glance at Niall who gave her a thumbs up, took a deep breath, and said the first thing she could think of. 

 

“Four years ago, just days after I moved to London I was crying in an alley behind my office surrounded by trash and some particularly judgemental pigeons.” When the guests chuckled, Chloe took a deep, calming breath and let the words come to her.

 

“So, I called the only person in London I knew at the time. Rosie. I sort of had a breakdown over the phone to her. And, instead of locking me out of the flat before I got home, she was the loveliest, kindest sort of person and took care of me instead. She didn’t owe me anything, as a new flatmate, but she introduced me to her friends, she gave me a family. It made sense then, when I met Liam who’s sort of a superhero? I’m not entirely unconvinced that all that time away he spends for his mysterious job he’s not off saving the planet and preventing nuclear disaster or something.” More laughter. Rosie and Liam beamed and her. 

 

“It took me a while to learn the lesson that everyone deserves love. What I mean is, I don’t think there’s some sort of checks and balances system that says that some people are worthy or not worthy of love and happiness. I used to. Well, actually, I used to not believe in it at all. I thought it was an illusion we told ourselves for a while before it disappears. I used to think that nothing gold can stay,” Chloe took a breath to steady herself.  

 

“But it’s people like Rosie and Liam that proved me wrong and taught me that love is very much real and it’s very much deserved. That it doesn’t matter what happened in the past because right here, right now we all have this beautiful opportunity to love and be in love if we’re just brave enough to let ourselves have it. That when we’re ready to let go and just trust, there’s no end to the ways you will be loved.” She paused to look straight at Niall and saw it all reflected back at her. Everything she was feeling seemed to be haloed around his head.   

 

“However, if there was some kind of cosmic checks and balances thing, Rosie and Liam would be the most deserving of it all. They’re two of of the kindest, most decent people I’ve ever met. And they found each other. That makes this chaotic life make just a little more sense to me. I love you both. So much. So thank you. I love you both.” Chloe raised her glass and everyone took the cue and toasted to them. After, Rosie and Liam enveloped her in a warm, teary hug. 

 

Chloe handed the microphone down the table to Niall who gave her a wink as everyone settled in for the best man’s speech. He had been adamant that she wasn’t allowed to hear it which they’d been bickering about for weeks. So she dabbed at her eyes with her napkin and turned to listen. He didn’t seem to have any notes prepared and Chloe felt nervous for him. He cleared his throat as the chatter died down once more and began. 

 

“When my dad died, Liam and Rosie drove me to the airport and paid for my plane ticket home.” Chloe’s breath caught in her throat. Niall rarely talked about his dad and when he did, it was not about his death. 

 

“They also came to Ireland for the funeral, cleaned our home for the wake, and took care of me and my family in ways I didn’t think any friend of mine ever would. It took me a long time to understand how two friends could be selflessly caring towards me. It wasn’t until I fell in love myself and that person loved me back that I really understood. You see, when someone loves you so well, so completely and without question, it’s like they’re teaching you how to be a better person. When someone loves you they way that Rosie and Liam love each other, the way that I’m loved, you just become better. It’s this wonderful consequence of love. You grow in ways you never thought possible. You take care of others because you’re so well taken care of, you give of yourself because someone has given themselves to you. You’re not stretched thin; you don’t shut people out. You’re open and giving and it’s sort of terrifying. Because it’s something that takes everything you have. Every single thing. It occupies the entire space of your body, and when you really love someone, you can’t compartmentalize it. You can’t lock it away. It just is. And it bleeds into every part of your life and there’s no way to keep it from making other’s lives just a little brighter, a little more beautiful. They taught me that trying to hide love is like trying to block out the sun.”

 

Chloe could barely see Niall pick up his glass through the blur of tears in her eyes. “So I want to thank you both for loving each other so well. Every person here is better for it, me most of all.” He tipped his glass back, the tent’s occupants followed in a thick, emotional silence. Niall’s speech was better than her’s and Chloe loved him too much to be pressed about it.      

 

Liam shot out of his chair to wrap Niall up in a bear hug and when they detached it was only to figure out where the loud, gasping crying was coming from. When their eyes landed on Louis, they found him aggressively crying into Harry’s suit jacket. Chloe decided as she watched Harry rub big, soothing circles on his back, that she was never going to let him live down.

 

*****

 

“Can I have your roll?” Niall asked having magically popped up behind her during dinner. “Louis threw mine at Harry.” 

 

“Why is Louis starting a food fight at Liam and- you know what I’m not going to get involved. And I’m sorry because I ate mine.” 

 

“Damn it! And damn Louis. He’s not invited to our wedding.” Niall froze, eye wide and Chloe flushed all over. 

 

“Here,” Chloe said brushing off the moment by snatching the roll off the plate of the bridesmaid sat next to her and handed it to Niall. She was in the bathroom and Chloe needed to do something because she couldn’t think straight when Niall said things like that to her.  

 

“I can’t steal whatsherface’s roll!” Niall said, but was already clutching it in his fingers. They both knew full well he was for sure going to eat whatsherface’s roll. 

 

“She doesn't eat bread,” Chloe said. She didn’t know that for sure, but whatsherface looked like the type of person who abstains from carbs and does early morning yoga. 

 

“Jesus! What’s wrong with people? You’re the only cool bridesmaid, babe,” Niall said, kissed the corner of her mouth, and trudged back to the groom’s side of the head table. Chloe wished that Rosie’s mom hadn’t been so traditional about the head-table’s seating arrangement. She missed Niall. And while she didn’t agree with starting a food fight at a wedding, she certainly wouldn’t object to finishing one. Whatsherface’s name was Katie and she was nice enough, but wasn’t very chatty and didn’t agree that cake is the best thing about weddings so she’s hardly what Chloe would call best friend material. 

 

“Chloe!” Harry whined and plopped down in Katie’s empty seat. “Louis put butter in my hair and Niall stole my roll.” He lowered his head to show her the glob of yellow goop in his curls. 

 

“Niall stole your roll? That little shit!” Chloe turned to see Niall chomping on a butter-doused roll, a triumphant grin on his face. “His lies turned me into a thief! I’ll be an enemy of the state by the end of the night.” 

 

“Chloe! Focus on the problem.” Harry shook his long hair in her face. “No one’s going to hook up with a groomsman that’s got butter in his hair!” 

 

“It looks just a greasy as any other day,” Chloe joked. Harry huffed, but waited patiently for her to run her cloth napkin through the mess. 

 

“Miss you,” Harry said after a few moments. 

 

“I know. You’re so far away...a roll’s throw away,” she said and Harry laughed. 

 

“No, I mean. I miss you,” Harry said, his words a little heavier. And Chloe did know.

 

Last year, Harry quit UNICEF to pursue a longtime passion of his, photography. Chloe went from seeing him almost every day of the week to few and far inbetween. He traveled more often than not, doing freelance work and pursuing personal projects full-time. She’d even been able to recruit him to doing some freelance work for UNICEF, but the distance was hard on them both. Sometimes, when the group is hanging out, Chloe would stop suddenly, worried she’d forgotten something significant, only to realize the panicked feeling is because Harry isn’t there. When he’s gone, there’s a hole in their little family. Louis is particularly hard to wrangle when Harry’s not around. Chloe’s not sure how they managed Louis before Harry. She imagined Liam got less sleep.  

 

But, sometimes, when Niall and Harry are gone at the same time, Chloe finds it almost unbearable. Almost. Things aren’t what they were and she’s not who she was. 

 

But still. The wedding was the first she’d seen him in a month. 

 

“I know,” she said as she finished cleaning his hair. 

 

“But this won’t be forever. I won’t be gone forever,” he said and took her hand. 

 

Chloe felt warm to her toes and smiled at him. “I know.” 

 

“And I forgive you,” he said, brow furrowed, serious. “For having sex in my room.” Chloe had the sense to bury her face in her hands. 

 

“How did you know?” Chloe’s asked, her mortified voice muffled by her hands. 

 

“My spies are everywhere.”

 

“You perv!” Chloe whisper-shouted but it was loud enough that several people, including the pretty blonde Harry had dimpled at no less than twenty times during dinner, looked their way. 

 

“Shut up, Chloe! Fine. I heard you earlier when I was trying to get something from my room.”   

 

“You listened? That’s not better!” She said. “Where’s the butter?” Chloe was going to strike back. 

 

‘I’m the one with a virtueless room. It’s violated. Reviled.” He restrained her wrists as she reached for the butter. 

 

“No room you’ve  _ ever _ stayed in has been innocent, Harold,” she bit back and uselessly fought his strength. 

 

“Oi!” Niall appeared and smacked Harry on the back of the head. “Let my girlfriend go!” Harry did almost immediately and Niall plopped in Chloe’s lap, his boney ass digging into her thighs. 

 

“Did you enjoy your roll?” Chloe asked. Niall nodded his head. “Did it taste like lies and betrayal?”. 

 

“Only a little,” Niall replied and kissed her on the nose. “The butter mostly hid taste of deception.” 

 

“You two are disgusting,” Harry griped, stood, and made his way around the table presumably to talk to the blonde. Chloe made a mental note to ask Louis to hide all of Harry’s boots later.  

 

“Love you too, perv!” Niall shouted. 

 

“Can you two not shout ‘perv’ at my wedding?” Liam asked. 

 

“Stop being such a diva, Liam,” Louis said, taking up Harry’s place. “It’s not like today is about you, or anything.” Poor, long-suffering Liam sighed and turned his attention back to staring into Rosie’s eyes. Louis agreed to no wild antics during the ceremony, but had made no promises about the reception. 

  
“Love,” Louis addressed Chloe, “can I have your roll? Niall ate mine.” 

 

Chloe pushed Niall hard enough that he fell off her lap. 

 

___

 

Dinner passed slowly into dancing with almost no incident. Rosie and Liam’s danced to Penny & The Quarter’s You and Me and Chloe caught Louis try to cover up his resurgence of emotion by going after Niall’s tie. Katie came back from the bathroom only to inquire about her missing dinner roll. “ _ Roll.”  _ Chloe feigned shock.  _ “There were rolls? I certainly didn’t get one! Oh, I think. Was that? Someone’s calling my name- I better-”  _

 

Niall caught her mid escape and pulled her on the dance floor. 

 

“I’m your hero,” he said and spun her away. 

 

“You,” Chloe quipped back spinning back into his side, “are the reason I had to flee. I’m going to have to go into witness protection.” 

 

Niall twirled her under his arm the wrong way so her hand bent at a funny angle. “And the worst part is, I can never go back now. My drink is forfeit,” she complained. 

 

“I’ll get you another drink,” Niall promised and dipped her so fast he almost dropped her. 

 

“I don’t want your guilt drink,” she said as he brought her back up. Niall kissed her lips, then her cheek. “No,” he kissed her forehead, “it won’t work!” He peppered her face with loud, enthusiastic kisses until she laughed and pushed his face away with her palm. He just kissed that too and pulled her back into his arms. 

 

When the song ended, a slower one took it’s place. Most of the single guests left the dance floor escaping to the bar leaving just the couples. Resting her cheek on Niall’s shoulder Chloe watched Liam and Rosie move slowly together, Rosie’s parents close by them. Even Holly and Fitz were sharing a rare moment of public intimacy. It was nice to be one of the couples. To have a forever partner to dance with instead of watching from the fringes. 

 

The song changed again and the dance floor flooded again with enthusiastic guests. Chloe pulled back from Niall’s shoulder expecting him to throw her around the dance floor the way he always does when a fast song comes on,  but something on his face made her pause. A deep crease between his eyebrows and the downturned corners of his mouth unsettled Chloe. Serious Niall was rarely a good thing.  

 

“What is it?” Chloe asked. 

 

“Nothing.” 

 

“It’s clearly something. When Outkast comes on and you don’t immediately flop around something is clearly up.” 

 

“Just dejavu.” 

 

“Ah, yes from all of Rosie and Liam’s other weddings,” Chloe teased and gestured widely at the reception. Niall shook his head and scrunched his mouth up. 

 

“Red dress. Nice event. Dancing.” 

 

“That’s… so vague, Niall.” He huffed, pulled on her hand, and led them through drunk dancers until they were outside. 

 

“Jesus, it’s loud in there,” Niall said and walked them farther away from the thumping base of the tent. 

 

Chloe stopped him to slip her heels off and enjoyed the cool, dewy feeling of twilight grass under her sore feet. She loved the familiar feeling of bare summer feet. When she was a child, Chloe’s mother told her that grass was good for them and when her mother was well, she would take Chloe on long, lazy barefoot walks in the summer. 

 

Niall grabbed the straps of her shoes in one hand and laced their fingers together with the other. Chloe knew Niall’s moods well enough by now to not push, he’d tell her in his own time. She let the sounds of music, laughter, and the catering company clearing plates and preparing for the cake cutting sweeping across the misty grounds wash over her. 

 

“Liam does everything right,” Niall said eventually. 

 

“Okay,” Chloe responded, unsure what Niall was getting at. 

 

“Everything. You know I was there when he met Rosie, right?” And of course Chloe knew that.

 

She’d heard the story about a million times. Niall and Liam were kicking a football back and forth in the park right after they’d both moved to London, back when they were random roommates turned instant best mates. Liam spotted Rosie walking with some of her friends from uni and he lost interest in their game just as Niall kicked it high in the air to him and the ball hit him square in the face. When Liam shook it off he simply said  _ “I’m going to marry her” _ , sprung up a little unsteady on his feet, and chased after her, red in the face and a little cross eyed. He left the park with Rosie’s number and a lovesick smile. 

 

“He knew what he wanted and he just went for it. I’ve always envied him that.” Niall released her hand and kicked at the grass with his brogues. 

 

“What do you want that you’re not going for?” Chloe asked trying her best to be gentle and helpful.  

 

“That night I was going to tell you. Before I even saw you in that dress. Before we danced. Before we drank on the rooftop I was going to tell you that I was in love with you and I didn’t. I really fucking regret that.” 

 

Chloe sighed. They’d been through this a dozen times. It always comes up when Niall’s feeling insecure about them, the way he’d treated her that is. All the things he did wrong before they finally found their way to each other. She thinks he pictures a large golden scale in his head, all the bad things he’s done on one side, and how happy he makes her now on the other. In his mind they must  _ just _ balance, like one more screw up and they’re done. He doesn’t ever seem to remember that she was just as bad, just as scared. Or that she doesn’t even think about that anymore because of how fucking happy he makes her everyday just by being Niall. Just by waking up next to her and spending his days in her life. How sometimes he goes out of his way to buy her favorite scones and lets her choose the music half the time in the car which isn’t a courtesy he lends to anyone else. 

 

“Niall. We’re here now. I love you. You love me. That’s all that matters,” she soothed and went to grab his hand again. 

 

“But maybe if I’d done things right we’d be - maybe you wouldn’t be as scared of -” 

 

“Lovebirds!” Louis voice cut through Niall’s. “Cake time!” 

 

“Coming!” Chloe shouted back. Niall ran a hand down his face like he was trying to wipe a happier expression on it. Before he could walk away Chloe grabbed his arm. 

 

“You listen to me, Niall James. I love you more than I love anything in this world and the only thing that scares me is how bad your feet smell after we play football.” Niall smiled despite himself and kissed her before they walked back for cake. 

 

____

 

Liam had set up fireworks as a surprise for Rosie to end the reception. Sweaty, booze filled guests poured out of the tent behind them. Blankets had replaced the aisle and chairs in front of the lake on the lawn and couples and groups plopped down on them laughing and sneaking sips out of half-full wine bottles like someone was going to stop them. Niall pulled her down between his outstretched legs and wrapped an arm around her waist, supporting them with the other behind him on the ground. Glancing around she saw Fitz fixing his jacket around Holly’s shoulders, Harry whispering something to the blonde, and Louis surrounded by three girls all vying for his attention. 

 

Rosie and Liam’s blanket was the most elaborate set up complete with their own champagne and flower petals. 

 

“Gross,” Chloe observed. “They’re gonna do it in like two seconds.” 

 

“It’s their wedding, love. Leave them alone.” 

 

“It’s just, do they have to be so obvious? Like I know it’s their day, but calm down, you know?” 

 

Niall chuckled in her hair. “We had sex in Harry’s room before the ceremony.” Niall reminded her. 

 

“Barely. And we’re not being so obvious about it, you know?” 

 

“You’re right babe. We rule, they drool and all that,” Niall relented and before Chloe could defend herself, the fireworks started. 

 

Bursts of red and white in the air reflected in the lake and on the faces of her friends. She had always loved fireworks, the booming sounds she felt deep in her chest, the stars reflected in the eyes of those watching, the awed sounds people make despite themselves. And now she had the added benefit of Niall’s arm around her their chests rising and falling in perfect rhythm. 

 

“Chloe?” she heard Niall ask, his breath tickled her ear. 

 

“Yeah,” she answered as silver sparkles fell towards the ground, the sound of them crackling in the air as they dissipated surrounded them. 

 

“If I asked you to, would you marry me?” Three fireworks went off in quick succession, which was a strange phenomenon considering the world just stopped spinning on its axis.  

 

“What?” she asked, though she’d heard him quite clearly. Niall loosened his grip around her waist so she could turn around to look at him. Meeting his eyes, Chloe saw only naked hope. No fear or humor. Just a genuine, earnest hope. She cleared her constricted throat as the lights continued to flash behind her, the reflections were bursting stars in his eyes. 

  
“ _ Are _ you asking me to marry you?” Chloe breathed and then shivered, cold because he wasn’t holding her anymore and shaking in her skin out of fear and excitement though she wasn’t sure which was winning. 

 

“Not at this particular moment in time, no.” Niall answered and Chloe’s heart sunk just a fraction. And wasn’t that something? Not the reaction she expected herself to have and more telling than anything else. 

 

“I’m asking you, if I ever asked you to marry me for real, would you want to? Would you say yes?” 

 

Chloe searched herself as he sat there waiting on her answer, patient but expectant. Niall had spoken about doing things right earlier, about how if he’d just told her when he wanted that maybe they’d be...what? Like Rosie and Liam? Married? Maybe Niall thought Chloe would trust him enough by now to marry him if he’d never hurt her like he did. 

 

But he was wrong. Chloe trusted him with everything she had, she never wanted to be with anyone else. Niall was more to her than he understood himself to be. In her heart, she was Niall’s forever. It was terrible and cheesy and more of herself than she’d ever thought she’d give to another person again. But here she was, looking at the whole of the universe reflected in the eyes of the man she loved feeling nothing but deep, blue peace. 

 

So she answered with, “Yeah. I think maybe I would.” 

 

Niall beamed at her as the sky lit up again and again with light and color around her head. 

 

“Well alright then,” he said and pulled her back into him. Chloe never wanted him to let go. She knew he never would. 

 

____________________

 

The minute the fireworks were over Niall hauled her on her feet and they half ran past their friends back into the house. They had a one track mind, overwhelmed by the past week, the wedding, and the simple, but earth moving conversation they’d just had. Although they weren’t so out of focus that they didn’t hear the whistles and whoops that followed their eager steps through the back entrance and up the dark staircase to the third floor room they were staying in. 

 

They reached their door breath puffing from exertion and anticipation and Chloe practically pushed Niall through the door. The sound of the party dying out drifted in through one of the open windows as Chloe kicked the door closed behind her and threw herself at Niall. 

 

He wants to marry her. One day he’s going to go to jewelry store and pick out a ring to declare his undying love for her. If someone had told Chloe three years ago that she’d be considering marriage, she would have thought them mad. But the flood of emotions Chloe felt in that moment wasn’t that she was just considering it, the thought of it was turning her on like crazy. The intimacy and trust she felt in Niall’s arms as she kissed him stupid in the middle of their room was dizzying and she felt like a victorian era romance novel heroine, practically swooning. Good thing the Paynes had several antique fainting couches. 

 

“Remember what I told you?” Niall asked as he broke away from her mouth, breathless and commanding. 

 

“You want to marry me?” Chloe responded, not sure the answer he was looking for. Sometimes, Niall’s a bit controlling in bed and it always turns her sex stupid in the best way. 

 

“Fuck,” he responded and kissed her again, his mouth warm and wet and tasting like whiskey and dark, bitter chocolate. 

 

“No,” he finally said nipping at her swollen bottom lip. “I said I was going to have you keep the dress on when I fuck you.” He dipped down and grabbed her under her knees and around her legs and hiked her onto his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. 

 

“Niall!” She shrieked. It was definitely going to be one of those nights. Niall walked them to the bed and tossed her down as she laughed her legs flailing around. He started stripping out of his jacket and tie, unbuttoning his shirt with no finesse and Chloe thought she saw one of the buttons popping off.

 

When he was only in his briefs, he crawled up the bed toward her and she stopped him with her foot on his bare chest, the hair there tickling her foot. 

 

“What makes you think I’m going to let you?” She asked. 

 

“Good point. Haven’t earned it yet, have I?” He replied and dragged his fingertips from the bottom of her thigh all the way up the length of her calf. Even as she vibrated from the sensation, she shook her head no at him. 

 

“What do I have to do?” He dipped his fingers into the top of her underwear like he’s going to pull them down but doesn’t, waiting for permission. 

 

“Say it again,” Chloe demanded. 

 

“I’m gonna fuck you in your dress,” Niall said automatically and goes to take off her underwear. She stopped him with a shake of her head. 

 

“I love you,” he tried. Still wrong. He looked at her for a long moment and then smirked, crooked and cocky. 

 

“I want to marry you,” he said complete sincerity wrapped around his words, a warm blanket of assurance and forever washed over her as he tugged her underwear down her legs and tossed them over his shoulder. 

 

Niall laced his fingers with hers as he spread her legs apart and goes down on her. His free hand clutched the material of her dress as his tongue ran over her again and again and she watched his shock of blonde hair between her legs in between her thrashing and constant noises. Chloe wasn’t exactly quiet in bed, something previous partners made her feel self conscious about. Not Niall, though. He once, very gently, tied her hands to their bed post so she couldn’t muffle herself in her hands like she normally did. Their poor neighbors. 

 

Chloe’s orgasm crept up on her as she watched Niall and it surprised them both how quickly it came and how loud it was. 

 

“Yeah?” he smiled up at her looking too pleased him himself. Chloe slapped her foot down on his back for being such a shit, but he just kissed the inside of her thighs before he pulled his boxer briefs down, threw her legs over his shoulders, and filled her up fast and hard. 

 

“Fuck, Chloe,” he breathed, resting their foreheads together for a second before he pulls back and forward again and again and again until he had to drag her hand away from her mouth and push her wrists back on the bed by her head. She couldn’t even be bothered that people might hear, not when it’s so good. 

 

Niall came first. Niall never comes first, a benefit to a very experienced partner. He rode out the aftershocks, whispered that he loved her, and replaced the emptiness with his fingers right away. She came seconds later stomach quaking, red faced and sweaty. She let out an ‘oof’ and bark of laughter when Niall collapsed on her chest. Sweaty and perfect and taking short, laboured breaths against her collarbones. 

 

“I fucking love you so much I can’t even last in bed anymore,” Niall huffed into her neck. She knew it would bother him despite the fact that he made her come twice in less than ten minutes. 

 

“If that’s our biggest problem, I think we’re going to be okay,” she replied and ran her hands through his sweaty hair. He kissed the tops of her breasts spilling over the top of dress one by one and then fell asleep there, heavy and warm.  

 

There was a gross, snoring irishman on her chest and she needed to take her dress off and use the bathroom, but Chloe wrapped her arms around him and let him sleep instead. 

  
  


_________________

 

The hazy, golden sun woke Chloe up just peeking over the lake. A thin blanket of mist hovered just above its smooth, glassy waters. With Niall’s warm arm draped around her middle in a large four poster bed, Chloe felt like she was in the last chapter of a harrowing book. Like she had fought a dragon and defeated an evil queen to get here. She knew this wasn’t the end of her story, but it felt like the victory over something she’d been fighting for years. This saga was over, the darkness she’d been fighting for years had been defeated. Any last shred of doubt or fear she’d had dissipated like the mist was in the rapidly rising sun. Her reassurance was 160 pounds of love drooling on her dress. She was exhausted, but warm and content. Happy. And her prize was to just lay and let Niall hold her. 

 

But she also  _ really  _ had to pee. 

 

Once she managed to wriggle away from the dead and sleep-clingy weight of Niall she slipped out of her room and tiptoed down the hall to the bathroom. Why Harry got an ensuite and they didn’t, she’ll never know. 

 

“How are you having a walk of shame when you have a serious boyfriend?” Louis’s voice chirped behind her. She glanced down at her rumpled dress and shrugged her shoulders. 

 

“And you said we were boring,” she replied. As she noticed the half open bag in Louis’ hands, Chloe asked, “What are you up to?” 

 

“You told me to steal all of Harry’s shoes, so I’ve been hiding them in strategic places all around the house.” 

 

“Bless you,” she said, high fived him, and slipped into the bathroom to relieve herself. It was going to take Harry hours to find all his shoes and Chloe was even more grateful Louis as bought them more time with him. 

 

When she came back to the room Niall was awake, unashamedly naked and wiggling his eyebrows at her. 

 

“Dress off this time?” She asked, but she was already unzipping it.

 

“You read my mind!” He responded. Chloe launched herself on the bed. 

  
  


______________________________

  
  


While Niall loaded their bags in the car, Chloe said a teary goodbye to Harry. He was off to Italy. Something about studying the light? She loved harry, but he never did quite answer her questions about his projects so she never understood till she saw the finished projects. Louis was driving him to the airport even though Harry was still pissed about his missing brown boot. Mrs. Payne promised to mail it to him once they find it, but Harry remained huffy.

 

_ “It’s not my fault you have fifty pairs of boots, Harold. How was I supposed to remember where I hid them all?”   _ Louis said, but still looked rather guilty and promised to buy Harry a green juice somewhere on the way. 

 

Harry promised to send her lots postcards and then trudged over to Louis’ car sniffling a little and waved goodbye. Chloe followed the car for a bit waving as it disappeared down the long, winding length of the driveway. But the sadness didn’t linger. Harry would come back and he was so happy that she couldn’t begrudge him leaving again.

 

As she turned around, Chloe caught Holly and Niall in a deep, serious conversation. Holly’s hands were clasped together in front of her heart and Niall was nodding fast and excited. They were too far away for her to understand what they were saying so Chloe went to join them, but stopped short when Holly produced a small, black velvet box out of her jacket and handed it off to a clearly shocked and overwhelmed Niall. 

 

Chloe turned away immediately because she knew she wasn’t supposed to see, but also because tears threatened to slip down her cheeks. Immediately, Chloe sought out a place to compose herself and jogged back into the house to hide in the front room. It didn't take long for Holly to find her. 

 

It only took one look for Holly to know that Chloe had seen, that she understood. 

 

“It’s a sapphire,” Holly stated, chin held high before Chloe could say anything. “To bring out your eyes. And I was  _ not _ about to let Niall run out and buy some garish, impersonal thing from a stranger. You deserve something special.” She paused and cleared her throat. “It was my mother’s.” 

 

Chloe threw herself into Holly’s arms and for once she wasn’t immediately pushed away. “Holly, I-” 

 

“I know.” Holly smoothed Chloe’s wild hair down for several moments. When Holly broke away she held Chloe’s face in her warm, wiry hands. “You lovely, lovely girl,” Holly said, a rare show emotion evident in her voice. Chloe covered Holly’s hands with her’s because there weren’t adequate words for how grateful Chloe was to her for everything. It was impossible. But if Niall was right, if you can’t truly hide love, then Holly knew just what she was felt; she knew all the things she wanted to say. 

 

“Alright,” Holly said, took a deep breath, and put her pinched and composed face back on. “I have to go. Humphrey needs me.” Chloe gave her one teary, but serious nod and watched her disappear through the entryway and outside to where Fitz had the door to his rolls royce ready and open for her. Holly bowed her head to Chloe just before disappearing into the car. Fitz just gave her a wink and a salute. 

 

Moments later, Rosie and Liam found her and enveloped her in a warm, multi-limbed hug while pushing a huge basket of leftover food and wine her in hands. After she wished them well on their honeymoon, Chloe gently placed it in Niall’s trunk and took a calming breath before joining Niall who was already sitting in the car.

 

He too was a little red-eyed and teary and they spent a moment looking at each other. Both too tired and overwhelmed to talk, comfortable enough with each other to enjoy the silence. 

 

“You okay?” he asked. 

 

“Never been better,” she answered and buckled her seat belt. 

 

“Home?” Niall asked and turned up the music to block out the chaotic sounds of departing guests and prolonged goodbyes.

 

“Home,” she agreed. 

 

Chloe laced her fingers with Niall’s as his ancient car lurched forward and couldn’t help feeling like she was already there. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> did you like it? I’m convinced the reason I didn’t post for so long is because I didn’t want to say goodbye. 
> 
> leave me a comment or kudos if you’re so inclined.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Have a lovely day.


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